


Stories of Portum High School

by blue_wind_gets_so_sad



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Accidental Deadnaming, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Accident, F/F, F/M, Fire mention, Gen, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Mention Of Homophobia, Misgendering, Multi, Other, Panic Attack, Sexism, Swearing, Toxic Relationship, Violence, Weapon use, a character mentions the delanceys but only implies what they do, albert's brothers' names are spencer and joshua bc i said so, based off of my fic "abusus non tollit usum", blood mention, child abuse mention, deadnaming mention, death mention, explosion mention, friendly name-calling, he's kind of questioning himself based off of transphobic things society thinks, i'm only good at writing hurt/comfort apparently bc that's all this is so far, idk - Freeform, idk what'd you'd call it, kind of?, mention of child neglect, nsfw mention, oh yeah this is modern era, s word that rhymes with rut, so i guess?, somewhat???, stalker-ish undertones, vague mention of violence/abuse, you might have to read that first in order to understand some of these
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-08-25 18:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16665598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_wind_gets_so_sad/pseuds/blue_wind_gets_so_sad
Summary: A collection of short stories based off of my Modern!Newsies fic "abusus non tollit usum!" Accepting requests!





	1. Accepting Requests!

Heya! If you're new, here's the story to get you started: [abusus non tollit usum](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869148)

 

If you're returning from the story, welcome back!

 

I'm taking requests! I've never taken requests for anything, so we'll see how this turns out! 

 

Things I will not write:

 

  * Rape/Sexual Abuse/Non-Con
  * A/B/O (I love reading it, but I'm awful at writing it so sorry y'all.)
  * Anything out of the canon of the story (If you want something written that is out of canon, you  _can_ suggest it, but it won't be posted in this.)




	2. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy Boy gets into a difficult predicament and gains some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: accidental deadnaming, blood mention, internalized transphobia?, panic attack, vague mention of violence/abuse, swearing, nsfw mention?, friendly name-calling.

                Tommy Boy was in the girl’s locker room. Sounds weird out of context, I know, but you’ll understand eventually. He was in his freshman year of high school and hardly knew any of the girls in his first period P.E. class. He knew _of_ them, but he didn’t personally know them. His closest friends in the class were Henry, Finch, and JoJo. They were in the other locker room, however.

                He retreated to his corner of the locker room. He took one glance behind him and saw the girls in their underwear. Quickly, he whipped his head back around to face the wall. With trembling hands, he pulled his shirt up over his head and carelessly tossed it on the ground. He looked down to grab his gym shirt out of his bag and caught sight of his breasts. He stared, his mind going back to the girls behind him. The _girls_. He had breasts. Only girls had breasts, right? He took a shaky breath and grabbed the shirt, then put it on.

                That’s when things started to go wrong. A wave of panic flooded through him and he fell forward against the wall. He hoped no one saw. What if someone saw? What if they asked him if he was okay? He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t say what had been plaguing him for years. He couldn’t tell them he didn’t feel like a girl. Hell, he could hardly tell himself that. Every morning he forced himself to stand in front of a mirror and try to tell himself that he wasn’t a girl. He wasn’t a girl. He wasn’t a girl. He wasn’t a-

                “McKayla? What’s wrong?” When did Sabrina Hunt get that tall? She was literally the shortest person in- was Tommy on the floor? He took a look around and saw that it was only him, Sabrina, and another girl in the locker room. How long had he been in his head? The coach was going to come and bang on the door at any minute. He was going to yell at them and refer to them as girls. But that’s what they were, right? They had to be. They all had the same- No! “McKayla?”

                “I-I’m fine.” That’s what he was trying to tell himself, anyway.

                “McKayla, you’re crying. On the floor.” Sabrina crouched down to Tommy’s eye level.

                “Whoa, are you bleeding?” The other girl asked. When she came into view, he recognized her as Katherine Plumber. The last time they had actually spoken to each other was in seventh grade when they and a few other students helped the high school put on a terrible production of _Cats_. He was Rumpelteazer alongside Anthony Higgins as Mungojerrie. If Tommy was being totally honest with himself, Anthony intimidated him until he got to know him a little bit.

                Tommy moved a hand up to his nose and when he pulled his hand back, there was blood on it. “Huh. G-Guess I am.” When he tried to laugh, he realized how difficult it was to breathe at that moment. He tried to take a deep breath, but it stopped short. He tried again, but the same thing happened. His eyes widened and he grasped at his chest. “Can’t…can’t breathe.” More blood flowed from his nose and down into his mouth, which only made matters worse.

                Katherine and Sabrina cast each other worried looks, then turned back to Tommy. “Alright. Is there anyone out there who knows what to do?” Katherine questioned.

                Tommy processed the question, then shook his head pitifully.

                “Okay, uh…what about a friend? Do you have any friends out there?”

                “J-Jo…Jo.” Katherine moved over to the door and left the room. Sabrina went to stand back up, but Tommy grabbed her wrist. “Please…don’t-”

                “I need to get you a tissue or something, McKayla.”

                “P-Please.”

                “Alright, I’ll stay.”

                Outside, Katherine was waiting for JoJo to come by the locker room. They all had the choice of either walking around the gym or participating in whatever game they were playing. JoJo had chosen to walk. When he came into Katherine’s reach, she quickly glanced over to make sure the coach wasn’t looking, then grabbed JoJo by the arm and dragged him into the locker room.

                “Katherine, what the-?” He questioned. Katherine cut him off by gesturing to Tommy on the floor in the corner. “Oh my god, McKayla. What happened?” He nearly slid into place in front of Tommy.

                “D-Don’t know…can’t…breathe…Jo…”

                “Alright, alright, uh…Smalls, I need a tissue or a paper towel or something. Katherine, I need you to go out there and look for the water bottle in my backpack. McKayla, can I have your hand? I don’t know what I’m doing, but I hope it works.” Tommy reached out, his hand shaking so hard his entire arm trembled. JoJo brought Tommy’s hand up to the former’s chest. His heart was beating rapidly, but he was taking long, deep breaths. “Try to follow my breathing, alright?”

                “Jo…can’t…”

                “It’s alright, McKayla. This’ll be over soon. Just follow my breathing.”

                Tommy gulped and closed his eyes, then tried to follow JoJo’s breathing. It was difficult at first, but he eventually calmed down.

                “You alright?”

                “Yeah.”

                “You sure?”

                “Not really.” Tommy chuckled. He cracked one eye open and saw JoJo staring down at him with a small smile and a worried look in his eyes.

                “Can you stand?”

                “Yeah.”

                JoJo helped him out a bit anyway. He led him over to the small bathroom that was attached to the locker room. As Tommy looked around, he noticed they were alone, but JoJo had what he sent Sabrina- or Smalls- and Katherine to go get, so he figured they must’ve brought the items and left.

                “Here, wash your mouth out with this.” JoJo handed him the water bottle. Tommy took a few swigs and swished the water around in his mouth, then spit it out. That was a _lot_ of blood that went in his mouth. He just hoped he didn’t swallow too much of it. These periods of him missing time were seriously inconvenient. When he was finished, JoJo took one of the tissues and wet it a bit, then went for Tommy’s face. He stepped back before he made contact, though. “Do you want to do this or do you want me to do it?”

                Tommy looked down at his still shaking hands and decided it would be better for JoJo to do it. He looked back up and smiled at him.

                “Okay.” JoJo smiled back and laughed. He lightly started to rub at Tommy’s skin. “Jesus, Kay. How’d you manage this?”

                “Thomas.” The name came out before he could stop it. He closed his eyes.

                “…What?” JoJo’s hand stopped.

                “M-My name…my name is…Thomas.”

                JoJo’s eyebrows creased in confusion. He opened his mouth to respond, but then it dawned on him. His face melted into a small smile. He continued to clean Tommy’s face.

                “How’d you manage this, Thomas?”

                Tommy’s eyes shot open. Did he just…? “Did you just…?”

                “Well, I’m not going to call you something you don’t want to be called, Tommy. I’m not a jerk. Is that nickname alright? Tommy?”

                “…Yeah. Yeah. Thanks. I ended up on the floor so I might’ve hit my face on something on the way down.”

                “No problem. And, that makes sense. Now, we have an issue. This isn’t coming off as easily as I had hoped, so here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to sneak out of here and resume walking like normal. You’re going to wait for me to come back around again and you’re going to come out and ‘fall.’ Then we’re going to-”

                “ _Or_ we could save myself the embarrassment of falling in front of the entire class and just _say_ I fell.”

                “True. Besides, the blood is already dried. It wouldn’t be believable.”

                They walked out of the locker room together after making sure the coach wasn’t looking. Tommy put his hands over his mouth and nose to make it a bit more believable. They walked up to the coach. JoJo had to clear his throat to get his attention.

                “Can we-”

                “Go ahead.” The coach waved them away, then got back on his phone.

                “What a staff.” JoJo scoffed as he and Tommy walked out of the gym.

                They walked down the hallway and completely passed the nurse’s office.

                “Shouldn’t we be going to the nurse? You know, just in case?” Tommy questioned.

                “Should we? Yes. Are we? No. Have you had a run-in with the Delancey brothers yet?”

                “No, thank god.” Tommy shivered as he was instantly reminded of the rumors he had heard.

                “Well, their uncle is the nurse. If you think they’re bad…” JoJo didn’t finish his sentence. He led Tommy up the stairs and to a classroom with a door covered in newspaper. “Tommy, would you happen to have any interest in joining the newspaper club?”

                “We’ve been friends since elementary school, Jo. You know I’m not much of a joiner.”

                “I know, I know. Just…consider it, alright? We meet every day during seventh period. We’re a small group of misfits and, well, you might just find some people you can relate to.” JoJo shrugged. He went to open the door but paused when he heard a cry of pain followed by arguing from inside.

                “Race, you big fucking baby, hold still.”

                “It hurts!”

                “I haven’t even done anything yet!”

                “I don’t like needles!”

                “You got a huge tattoo across your chest _last night_ and you’re telling me you don’t like needles.”

                “That’s different!”

                “How is it different!?”

                JoJo shook his head and opened the door. He held it open for Tommy, then closed it after he entered. There was a person in a pink leather jacket pinning another person to the ground. There was another person sitting in a computer chair, their face buried in their hands.

                “JoJo! You’re just in time to see me beat the hell out of Race with his drumsticks.” The person in the jacket added a good smack to the side of “Race’s” head at the end of their sentence.

                “The drumsticks are what got me into this predicament!”

                “It’s your fault you didn’t sand down the wood good enough! I told you you should’ve let Finch do it!” Leather Jacket Person tried to go for Race’s hand with a small needle, but Race bent his hand in a way that shouldn’t be humanly possible to get away. “You’re being fucking ridiculous!”

                The person sitting at the computer chair got up and walked over to JoJo and Tommy. “Race decided to make his own drumsticks instead of buying some and, no surprise here, he didn’t sand them down well enough. Sniper’s trying to get a splinter out of his finger and she’s running out of patience.”

                “I didn’t know Sniper has patience.” JoJo joked.

                “You and me both.” Computer Chair Person snorted. “Who’s this and who did they murder?” They looked Tommy up and down, noticing the blood on his clothes, neck, and face.

                “This is my friend…” JoJo trailed off.

                “Thomas. Thomas Dameski. And I, uh, didn’t kill anybody. I tripped, fell, and made out with a wall. Or the floor. I haven’t figured out which one it is yet.” Tommy didn’t even hesitate. He figured it’d be easier to introduce himself as Thomas to someone who didn’t already know him.

                “Well, Thomas Dameski, my name is Albert DaSilva. That over there is Sniper Wah and the big damn idiot on the floor is Racetrack Higgins.”

                “…Higgins?” Tommy tried to remember why he knew that- Oh yeah.

                “Well, fuck me with a chainsaw! It’s my twin!” Race wiggled out from under Sniper and bounded over to the small group. “I’m still taller than you, man.”

                Tommy rolled his eyes. “You’re taller than everyone. Except for Jo.”

                “Ah, Jo can kiss my ass. I still think he wears special shoes that make him taller than me.” Race smirked and thumped JoJo on the nose.

                “Oh, yes. You caught me. I went out and found shoes just to make myself taller than you specifically. My secret has been revealed. I’m so ashamed.” JoJo replied dramatically. He then flopped down in a computer chair.

                “Tommy! You know what we should do?” Race ignored JoJo. “We should get the gang back together and spend a few hours hanging out and doing songs from _Cats_. Do you still remember our dance?”

                “Race, I could do our dance in my sleep. And, that actually sounds like a great idea. I guess you do have those every now and then.”

                Albert nearly fell out of his chair he was laughing so hard. “Oh my god, I fucking love you.”

                “Isn’t that a bit early, Albie? Shouldn’t you take him to dinner first?” Race turned away from Tommy to pull Albert’s hat down over his face. In response, Albert removed his hat and whacked Race on the ass with it. “So, when do you want to do it, Tommy Boy?”

                “Anytime as long as you get that splinter out of your finger.” Tommy cocked an eyebrow.

                Race’s mouth fell open and the other three pointed and laughed. “Fine! Fine. I’ll do it. Just get it over with.” He held his hand out towards Sniper and she made her way over with the needle. He turned away and squeezed his eyes closed. “Come on, Sniper. Hurry up and do it before I change my mind.”

                “I did it, you dumbass. Didn’t even feel it, did you?” Sniper laughed.

                Race’s eyes flew open and he examined his finger. Sure enough, the splinter was gone. “None of you will ever speak of this.”

                “What’ll you do? Attack us with your drumsticks and give us splinters?” Albert asked.

                “Oh, I’ll give you splinters, alright. I’ll give you splinters somewhere only Elmer will be able to get them out.”

                Tommy looked over at JoJo and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

                “Elmer is Albert’s partner.”

                Tommy’s eyes widened when he understood what Race meant. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he laughed. If the newspaper club was anything like that, then he might’ve considered sticking around.

                “Hey, Sniper, are you done with that peroxide? I need to clean Tommy’s face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you didn't understand it, when Race calls Tommy his "twin," he is referring back to them playing Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer in their school's production of Cats. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer are often seen as twins.


	3. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JoJo gets into a car accident and his partners are more than willing to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Car accident, swearing, mention of death, mention of fire, mention of explosion. (I think that's it. Tell me if there's anything else I need to mention.)
> 
>  
> 
> BASED AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE STORY

                 JoJo and his mother were headed…somewhere. JoJo honestly didn’t know where they were going. All he knew was that they were headed to a market somewhere in a rural part of Manhattan. He also knew that he hated this twisty road they were heading down. You couldn’t see around the curves and turns, which meant there could literally be a person just standing in the road ahead of you and you’d never know until it was too late. Thankfully, his mother was driving. He was on his phone in the passenger seat just scrolling through Facebook. Nothing really interesting was on there, as usual, but he was bored and wanted something to-

                “Oh my god. They’re not going to stop.” His mother gasped. JoJo looked up. All he saw were screaming faces before the world started spinning. The music from the radio stopped playing and was replaced by his own screams. Not because he was scared; no, because he wanted proof he was still alive. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Stop.

                His first thought: “ _Ah, man. My pants are ripped._ ” Second thought: “ _Oh my god, everything’s black. I can’t see._ Third thought: “ _Wait, that’s just my hood._ ” Fourth thought: “ _We’re upside-down._ ”

                “Are you okay!?” His mother exclaimed from the driver’s seat, her voice strained and full of fear.

                “Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” He tried to make his voice as calm as possible.

                “Yeah. Can you reach my phone?”

                JoJo looked down and saw that the phone charger was still plugged in. He reached down and grabbed it, but her phone wasn’t connected to it. His phone wasn’t in sight either.

                “I can’t see it!”

                “Oh god, oh god. Can you undo your seat belt?”

                JoJo tried the seat belt, but it wouldn’t budge.

                “It’s stuck!” Okay, he was starting to freak out. He wanted to be as calm as possible so that maybe his mother wouldn’t be scared, but the situation was starting to get to him. What if the car blew up with them inside? What if it caught on fire? What if no one came to help and they were stuck there?  What if it started raining and-

                His door was ripped open. “Is everyone okay?” The person yelled.

                “Help!” JoJo screamed, unable to contain himself.

                “Let me go get my pocket knife; I’ll be right back!” The person left and returned a few seconds later. “Are you ready?” They asked.

                JoJo stuck his hands out in front of him and braced for impact. The person started cutting at the seat belt and when it was loose, JoJo fell down onto the ceiling of the car. He quickly pushed himself out through the open door and sprinted away from the car. He let himself fall onto the ground once he was a few feet away and his mother was in sight. She sat down right outside of the car. He was told to sit down immediately, of course, but he wanted to be away from the vehicle because he knew there was broken glass around it.

                “Hey, you’re JoJo, right? One of Sniper’s friends?” JoJo looked up and saw Damiana looking down at him. Or, Damian based on the “he/him” pronoun pin he was wearing on his shirt.

                “Yeah. Damian, right?”

                “Yeah. I live across the street and I heard loud bangs, so I came outside to see what was wrong. What happened?”

                JoJo looked around at the scene. He could hear sirens in the distance. People were beginning to pull over to see what was going on. The other car’s front was smashed in and no one had exited it yet. His mother was still on the ground outside of her door and people were talking to her as well. She was crying.

                “We were headed that way and they hit us. We flipped a few times and then landed upside-down. I don’t really remember much more than that. I’m sure I’ll remember more later. Hopefully.” He nervously chuckled.

                “Well, it looks like they had a stop sign and you guys didn’t, so that’s a plus I guess. Are you alright?”

                “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up, I guess.” JoJo went to stand up, but Damian softly pushed him back down.

                “I’d stay on the ground until they check you out, JoJo. Look, here comes a medic now. I’m going to go check on your mother, alright?”

                “Alright.”

 

*** 

 

                After JoJo was looked over by the medic, he decided “fuck it” and got up. The medic couldn’t find any issues, so JoJo considered himself lucky, but he was told that it might get worse later on. He made his way over to the car and squatted down. He was wearing his boots so if any glass got stuck in the bottom it wouldn’t pierce through. He looked around inside, then grabbed his phone. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t damaged. That thing had been dropped, thrown, and stepped on so many times and there wasn’t a single scratch on it.

                “Told you this thing is indestructible, Mom.” JoJo joked to his mother on the other side of the car. She didn’t say anything but gave him a small smile in response. He walked away from the car again and pulled up his contacts list. He was trying to make the decision of which of his partners to call when Buttons’ contact image appeared on the screen. He slid the green circle to the left to answer the call.

                “You know that feeling you get where something’s wrong but you can’t figure it out but you _know_ something’s wrong and it doesn’t go away until you figure it out? Because I’m having that right now. Tommy said he’s okay, but you know how he is so he could be lying. Are you okay?” Buttons spewed out in one breath.

                “That’s kind of funny. I was just about to call one of you.” JoJo laughed anxiously.

                “Are…Are those sirens in the background? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where are you?” JoJo could hear rustling around in the background, which he assumed was Buttons either getting out of bed or putting clothes on.

                “Babe, relax. I’m fine. Just got in a car accident. Everything’s-”

                “Car accident!? Where?”

                “In front of Damian’s house. Look, it’s honestly fine. You don’t have to-”

                “Damn fucking right I have to come up there! Ma, get your fucking keys; we have to go rescue my idiot boyfriend!” JoJo could hear Buttons and her mother going back and forth in the background, followed by the sounds of running and keys jingling.

                “Jesus.”

                “We’re going to get Tommy and then we’ll be right up there, alright? It’ll only take us a few minutes.”

                JoJo knew there was no arguing with Buttons. “Alright. Just…be careful. Please?”

                “We will, hon.”

 

*** 

 

                At this point, traffic was backed up _way_ down the road. JoJo was standing with his mother as an officer talked to her. According to the officer, they had flipped about four and a half times, their car received the most damage, and they were hit right where JoJo was. And, if he was being honest, he was starting to feel it. There was a dull pain in his knee that seemed to get worse as time went on and he felt like he had been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. It seemed as if the people in the other car had the worst injuries, though. One person was being carried out on a stretcher and two little kids had neck braces on. The driver was lying on the ground and JoJo wasn’t sure if they were just lying there, if they were unconscious, or something worse.

                JoJo looked to the left and saw a Jeep Commander coming toward them through the grass.

                “Oh my god. They’re insane.” He sighed.

                “Who is that?” His mother questioned.

                “My partners.”

                The Jeep stopped, parked, then shut off. The passenger door flew open and Buttons nearly fell out of it. She sped over and latched onto JoJo so quickly he almost fell over. He tried to contain it, but he hissed a bit at the pain. She detached herself and stepped back.

                “Are you hurt? I’m so sorry!” She covered her mouth and looked him up and down.

                “Babe, I’m fine.  Just a bit sore. I pro-”

                “Are you _bleeding_!?” Tommy Boy grabbed JoJo by the chin and pulled him down a bit. He inspected the side of his head. “Jo, there’s a cut on the side of your head.”

                “There is? From what?” JoJo felt the side of his head. Sure enough, there was a cut there. He could feel the dried blood covering it.

                “Glass, maybe? I don’t see anything stuck in it.”

                JoJo suddenly remembered his sunglasses. “I was wearing sunglasses. One of the temples had broken off of it. Maybe the hinge cut me? I don’t know how, though, unless my head hit the window at some point.”

                “Well, if you did hit the window, it’s good your airbag activated. We’re so glad you’re okay, JoJo.” Veronica, one of Buttons’ mother’s girlfriends, smiled. The other two women nodded in agreement.

                “Thanks, Ms. Roni. Ms. Janis. Ms. Elizabeth.” JoJo smiled back. “Oh! Mom! These are my partners Buttons and Tommy Boy. This is Buttons’ mother, Ms. Elizabeth Davenport, and her partners, Ms. Janis and Ms. Veronica.”

                “I hate we had to meet like this, but it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lacey Williams, JoJo’s mother.”

                “It’s nice to meet you, too.” The three of them said in unison.

                “Ms. Williams, did you know you’re bleeding, too?” Tommy questioned, peering down at Lacey’s leg.

                Lacey’s eyebrows creased in confusion as she lifted her shorts leg a little bit to reveal a puncture mark in the back of her thigh. “Oh.”

 

*** 

 

                It took a lot of convincing, but Lacey let Elizabeth take her and JoJo up to the hospital. Nothing was broken, but they were both going to be bruised and sore. JoJo’s cut didn’t cause any concern, but Lacey had to get a shot as a precaution due to her puncture wound. Afterward, Buttons and Tommy Boy were allowed to stay with JoJo for a few nights because they wanted to help out around the house and give moral support. Everything was calm at first. They catered to JoJo hand and foot; not because he made them, but because they wanted to. JoJo insisted he was capable of doing things on his own, but he could hardly walk due to the pain in his knee and if he overexerted himself, it would only make his chest pain worse.

                But the physical pain was nothing compared to what he faced when he closed his eyes. When the wreck happened, he could hardly remember anything about it, but now he couldn’t even blink without seeing it. It would play over and over and over in his head like a video on loop and it just wouldn’t _stop_. He saw the passenger with their legs propped up on the dashboard. He saw the driver snatch their head up from whatever they were looking down at. He saw the screaming children in the back seat. He saw the shattering of the windshield. He heard the screaming from his mother and himself. He heard the crunching of the vehicle as it rolled across-

                “JoJo! JoJo, baby, wake up.”

                JoJo shot up in his bed, his eyes frantically searching for _something_. “B-Bee? Tommy?”

                Buttons reached over and rested a hand on JoJo’s right cheek. “I’m right here, baby. It’s Bee. I’m right here.”

                “Bee, you…you have to help me. You have to help me get out of here. I can’t get out of here. I’m stuck! I can’t see anything, Bee. It’s so dark.” JoJo grasped at the front of Buttons’ shirt.

                “Jo, honey, it’s alright. You’re here with me and Tommy. You’re safe.” Buttons grabbed JoJo’s hands and held them.

                “I’m stuck, Bee. I can’t get out. Help! You have to help me! Please, I don’t want to die. Please!” JoJo’s voice was quick and fearful as tears flowed down his cheeks like rivers.

                Suddenly, the lamp in the corner of the room flicked on. Tommy Boy was awake. He quickly came back to the bed and rested a hand on JoJo’s sweaty bare shoulder. One of JoJo’s hands came up to cover Tommy’s while his other one remained holding Buttons’ hand.

                “Bee?”

                “I’m here, baby.”

                “Tommy?”

                “Right here, hon.”

                JoJo exhaled and visibly relaxed. He licked his lips and chuckled. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

                “Jo,” Tommy said sternly.

                “I know, I know.” JoJo sighed.

                “Why don’t we try to go back to sleep?” Buttons suggested.

                The scared look from before returned to JoJo’s eyes. He shook his head.

                “Alright. It’s okay. How do you feel about a bath?”

                JoJo calmed down a bit, then looked down and nodded.

                “Hey, don’t do that.”

                “I just…I hate that you guys have to put up with this.” JoJo shrugged.

                “We don’t have to. We _want_ to. You’re our boyfriend and we want to be there for you throughout the good and the bad. Now, I’m guessing you want your coffee disgustingly sweet as usual?” Tommy Boy smiled and raised an eyebrow.

                “You know me so well.” JoJo returned the smile.


	4. Ex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David punches a piano (not really) and Sarah takes care of a pest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Swearing, brief mention of violence, stalker-ish undertones, mention of dead naming, toxic relationship.
> 
>  
> 
> (We stan protective older sister Sarah Jacobs in this household)
> 
> (This is probably bad but I was listening to a split audio of Twenty One Pilots' cover of Jar of Hearts & the original song and I was just suddenly struck with inspiration. However, I do like the way I wrote the part where David's playing the piano.)

 

~TAKES PLACE AFTER DAVID ARRIVES AT THE SCHOOL AND BEFORE HE GOT INTO A RELATIONSHIP WITH JACK~

                Sarah knew something was off the minute she heard the piano downstairs being played. She was on break from her boarding school, but David was still in school. Or should’ve been. Their parents were both at work and Les was definitely at school because Sarah was the one who had dropped him off. She paused the show she was watching on her television and listened in for a few seconds. The moment she heard David begin to sing, she pushed herself off of her bed and made her way downstairs.

 

_“I know I can't take one more step towards you, ‘cause all that's waiting is regret._  
Don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?  
You lost the love I loved the most.”

 

David was in the living room where his piano was. He was lazily hunched over the instrument, which was very unlike him.

 

_“I learned to live half alive, and now you want me one more time._

_Who do you think you are runnin' 'round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart?_  
You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul, so don't come back for me.  
Who do you think you are?”

 

Upon closer inspection, David looked…rough, to put it lightly. His hair was so messy you would think he just crawled out of bed. He was in his pajamas and half of the buttons on his shirt were either undone or in the wrong holes. His eyes were tired, hurt, and…angry all at the same time.

 

_“I hear you're asking all around if I am anywhere to be found.  
But I have grown too strong to ever fall back in your arms.”_

 

He had begun to play more aggressively. His fingers still gracefully fell over the keys, but he played like he had been injected with adrenaline.

 

_“I learned to live half alive, and now you want me one more time._

_Who do you think you are runnin' 'round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart?_  
You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul, so don't come back for me.  
Who do you think you are?

_It took so long just to feel alright; remember how to put back the light in my eyes._  
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed, ‘cause you broke all your promises.  
And now you're back.  
You don't get to get me back.”

 

                At this point, it seemed as if he was pummeling the keys rather than playing them. His body didn’t move along with the beat; it jolted. The rage in his eyes as he stared holes in the sheet music mirrored the emotion that was being forced through his throat. He was no longer singing; he was screaming.

 

_“Who do you think you are runnin' 'round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart?_  
You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul.  
Don't come back for me; don't come back at all.

_Who do you think you are runnin' 'round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart?_  
You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul.  
Don't come back for me; don't come back at all.”

 

His voice had become raspy from the lack of liquid he had consumed, his failing ability to hold back tears, and the sheer amount of force he was putting on his vocal cords. His hands had begun to shake, but that didn’t stop him from striking the keys with the same energy as he was using.

 

_“Who do you think you are?_  
Who do you think you are?  
Who do you think you are?”

 

                His voice broke on the last word and that was the final straw for Sarah. She sat down beside him on the piano bench and gently moved his hands away from the keys. She tilted his head up and wiped the tears away, but more just flowed out.

                “You crying plus beating the shit out if the keys can only mean one thing: it’s time for me to kick some ass.” Sarah joked.

                The corners of David’s lips quirked up for a few short seconds. “Yeah.” He whispered.

                “Well? You going to tell me what’s up or am I going to have to activate my nonexistent mind-reading skills?”

                David knew she was just joking around and that she wouldn’t actually make him tell her what was wrong if he didn’t want to, but this time he wanted to. “My ex.”

                “Say no more. You get your keys and I’ll get my baseball bat.”

                “Sarah.”

                “I’m just joking, kid. Do continue.” Sarah smiled and started to fix David’s hair.

                “He texted me.”

                “What’d he want?”

                “Me.”

                “Pardon?” She raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

                “He wants me back. He didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. I muted him. He’s probably still going right now.” David reached behind him and grabbed his phone off the other side of the bench. He unlocked it, then stared at it for a few seconds. “Yeah, he’s still going. I’m actually starting to feel bad.” He then handed Sarah his phone. That was his mistake.

                “Don’t. He took more than he gave and it just wasn’t a healthy relationship. He was controlling, selfish, and- I’m sorry. Why is he apologizing for dead naming you?” Sarah narrowed her eyes as she scanned over the texts.

                “Ah hell.” David squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed at his face.

                “When did he dead name you and why don’t I know about it?”

                “It was a few weeks ago, Sarah. It’s not a big deal.”

                “Not a big deal? David, that’s a _huge_ deal. Did he do it on purpose or on accident?”

                “…On purpose. And when I tried to correct him he flicked his eyebrows up like, ‘don’t say it’ or something.”

                “Oh hell no.” Sarah got up and started walking away with David’s phone.

                David’s eyes widened. “Sarah, what are you doing?”

                “Making sure this fucker knows you aren’t interested in his disrespectful noodle dick anymore. Unless you don’t want me to.” She held his phone out toward him and raised an eyebrow.

                David thought about it for a few moments. “…Go ahead. He’s scared of you.”

                “Good.” Sarah pressed the “call” button next to David’s ex’s contact photo. (It was a noodle. Sarah obviously did that. Les changed the contact name to “He Who Shall Not Be Contacted” but David changed it back to just his name.) Sarah had it on speaker so David could hear when his ex picked up the phone.

                “David? Why didn’t you answer my texts?” He demanded.

                “Hi, is this Zach?” When Sarah used her false-polite tone, David knew his ex was in for it.

                “Oh god. Sarah?”

                “Mhmm. That’s right, sweetie. Now, look. You don’t want me to say what I want to say to you, so if you could just agree to leave my brother alone then we can all go on with our-”

                “Maybe you should let David fight his own battles.”

                Sarah and David scoffed in unison. “Letting David fight his own battles doesn’t seem to be working, especially when the other party won’t take a fucking hint and get over himself. So now I’m fighting the battle and if this continues, the court will be fighting this battle. He loved you and you threw it away, so no, he doesn’t want you _or_ your noodle dick back. _Especially_ after you dead named him and controlled him to the point he was scared of talking. Thank you and goodnight, motherfucker.” She hung up the phone, then started tapping on the screen.

                “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t threaten him.” David chuckled. He wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still sniffling.

                “I’m serious about taking his ass to court if he doesn’t stop. I don’t need them hearing me threaten him. He should stop, though, since I’m blocking him on everything for you. If he dares to contact me, either of our parents, or the home phone then he better be ready to talk to a judge.” After a few more taps, she handed the phone back to David.

                “Jesus.”

                “Nah, just Sarah.” She smiled at her own joke. “Alright, how about we go do something to take your mind off of that idiot? Have you been to the new _Hershey’s_ place in Brooklyn? I heard the ice cream is amazing. Oh! And they wear the cutest uniforms.”

                “Ice cream?” David raised an eyebrow.

                “You’re never too old for ice cream, David. Plus, they have dark chocolate ice cream.”

                “You hate dark chocolate.”

                “But you don’t. That’s why I mentioned it.” Sarah smiled, then grabbed David’s keys off of the counter and left the house. David stood there and waited. A few seconds later, she came back in. “We need to get you cleaned up before we go _anywhere_.”

                David snickered. “What would I do without you?”

                “Suffer probably.”

                “Guess so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Every time I typed "Sarah smiled" all my emo ass could think of was "SARAH SMILES LIKE SARAH DOESN'T CARE")
> 
>  
> 
> (Also I fucked up my elbow today playing air hockey so typing hurts like a motherfucker but a writer's gotta write y'know)
> 
> (That's also a hint for the theme of the next short story)


	5. Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David asks Spot and Race how they met and immediately regrets it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Swearing, brief violence, brief NSFW.
> 
>  
> 
> (This one's short, but eh.) (Also, I lied about this chapter being about air hockey if anyone saw that on the previous chapter notes. The one about air hockey is in the works, though.)

                 David anxiously drummed on the steering wheel of his van as he waited outside of the Larkin-Kelly-Conlon household for Spot and Race. He was taking the two boys to see a movie because Spot’s truck needed to be fixed and everyone else was conveniently busy. If there was one thing David hated more than anything it was being late. And right then they were…five minutes off-schedule. It might not have sounded like a big deal since the movie was going to start at six P.M. and David was there at four P.M., but they had to account for the thirty-minute drive there, the traffic, the search for a parking spot, the wait in line at the concession stand (because God knows Race was going to buy half of the candy there), _and_ however long it would take for the couple to bicker over where to sit because Spot always wanted to sit at the very top so that no one could sit in front of him and block his view, while Race always wanted to sit at the very bottom for some god-awful reason. (David didn’t know why they wouldn’t just compromise and sit in the middle of the theater. He believed the middle had better viewing anyway.)

                David looked at his phone. 4:10. 4:15. This was ridiculous. 4:20. 4:25. He was ready to march into the house. 4:30. 4:35. He unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to open the door, but it was then that Spot and Race tumbled out of the front door together. David resisted the urge to groan and roll his eyes. Spot only had one shoe on and he was struggling to button his pants as he rushed to the van. Race was fully dressed aside from a shirt. As they got closer, David realized that Race’s bare chest and neck was covered in small red and purple marks. This time David didn’t resist the urge to groan and roll his eyes.

                “Heya, Davey.” Spot chuckled nervously. David just glared at him and started backing out of the driveway the second they both climbed in.

                “Davey, would you by any chance have-” David cut Race off by reaching into the console and grabbing a bag with a label that read, “For Hickeys.” He reached over and handed it to him without taking his eyes off of the road. “You’re my savior, David Jacobs. Sorry, we’re late.”

                David glowered at him then growled and glanced at the time. 4:45. “It’s fine.”

                “We were arguing over who got to sit shotgun and we decided to settle it by trying to get the other to make noise if you know what I mean. Wink wonk. Whoever made a noise first lost, and well, Spot’s in the back seat so we all know who won.” Race wiggled his eyebrows and smirked as he went to work trying to fix his neck.

                “Thank you, Racetrack, for the completely unnecessary information,” David mumbled sarcastically.

                “What’s this?” Spot had reopened the console and retrieved a large case from inside. This one was labeled, “David Loves His Friends Too Much for His Own Good.”

                “CDs I made for if and when one of you gets in my vehicle.”

                “Explains the label.” Spot zipped open the case and began to flip through it. Each disc had a name on it and they were all in alphabetical order. “Is Buttons’ CD just the OBC of _Cats_?”

                “1998 film recording, actually. The OBC has the version of ‘Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer’ where Mr. Mistoffelees sings the entire song and she said that as much as she loves Mistoffelees, she doesn’t like that version.”

                “That’s my girl.” Race snickered from the passenger seat.

                Spot rolled his eyes and continued flipping. “I’m guessing Jack’s is filled with nothing but those shitty country-rap groups.”

                “You’d be right.” David cringed.

                “What about mine?” Race asked.

                “Broadway and Green Day. A bit of Blink-182 and Sum 41.”

                “Holy shit. You know me so well.”

                Spot leaned up and put his CD in and waited for it to start. When N*SYNC started playing over the speakers, he unashamedly shrugged and moved his head to the beat.

                “So, how did you guys meet exactly?” David questioned.

                “How did we meet? Oh, that’s simple. Medda adopted Spottie and I was Jack’s best friend. It was inevitable.” Race explained.

                “How we got together is a different story,” Spot added.

                “Do I want to know?”

                “I’m sure you don’t but we’re going to tell you anyway.” Race checked his neck in the mirror, then began his story.

 

*** 

 

                _“Why the hell did you do that!?” Race shouted at Spot as they entered the school bathroom._

_“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” Spot shrugged._

_“Excuse me? Who the hell are you, my mother?”_

_“I’m your best friend, Race!”_

_“Okay, well, I didn’t see Jack jumping out of his seat to knock Morris Delancey’s teeth loose! What makes you so damn special?”_

_“I care about you!”_

_Race’s fist suddenly collided with Spot’s jaw. “And Jack doesn’t!?”_

_Spot stumbled back a few steps. “I didn’t mean it like that, Racer.”_

_“Then what did you mean? Huh? Tell me!” Race pushed Spot backward until he had him pressed up against the bathroom wall. He grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. “Tell me exactly what you meant, because I guaran-fucking-tee you that…that…oh.” Race’s eyebrows rose about fifty meters up his forehead as his eyes traveled down to the now-closed space between them. “Yeah, I don’t know how I’d feel if Jack cared about me that way.”_

_Spot simply looked away. His face was tinted red and his jaw was clenched in frustration and embarrassment…until he noticed that the other boy was experiencing the same…feeling. His eyes slowly traveled back up to meet Race’s lidded ones. “So…this is an…unfortunate position we’re in, huh?”_

_“My, my, my. I can’t believe I’ve got the King of Brooklyn all flustered and excited. I didn’t think anyone could do that. I’m proud of myself.” Spot rolled his eyes in response. “Now, it’s got to be exhausting keeping up that Brooklyn royalty reputation of yours all the way over here in Manhattan, so I imagine it’s nice to have someone…take charge every now and then. So, tell me, Your Majesty. Is it this position that has you all worked up…” Race leaned down to where his lips were right beside Spot’s ear. “…or is it me?”_

_“H-Holy shit, Tony. It’s you. It’s always been you.” Spot closed his eyes and moaned._

_“Well, in that case, how about I use this position to both of our benefits? Huh? How does that sound, Sean?”_

_Spot exhaled a shaky breath and nodded frantically. “Yeah. Please.”_

_When Race hummed and smirked, Spot could feel his lips move against his ear. “Good boy.” Race ensnared Spot’s earlobe between his teeth and-_

*** 

 

                “Oh god, stop! If there is one thing I don’t want a visual of, it’s that!” David wanted to close his eyes and never open them again but he was the one driving.

                “Says the guy who writes smutty fanfics that put our acts in bed to shame.” Spot raised an eyebrow.

                “W-What!? First of all, those are fictional characters who are not my real life best friends. Second of all, how do you know about that!?”

                “The one time Crutchie thought it was a good idea to give you a weed brownie. You told us all about them.” Race grinned.

                “Yeah and then you sent us all links and we had a competition to see who could keep the best poker face while reading them,” Spot added.

                “I don’t remember that.” David’s eyebrows creased in confusion.

                “It was a few minutes after Jack found you staring at your home screen, which was a Weeping Angel from _Doctor Who_ , claiming you couldn’t take your eyes off of it or else it would kill you.” Race explained.

                “Oh. I remember now.” David grimaced as the memory came back to him.

                “I like to keep the memory out of my head but I’m reminded of it every time I catch Jack rereading them.” A small smirk appeared on Spot’s face.

                “Ah, jeez.” David snorted. Race held his hand up and started counting down from five on his fingers. “What? Why are you counting d- Oh my _god._ Jack does _what now?”_


	6. Update

I'M NOT DEAD I PROMISE. I've just hit a huge patch of writer's block and I'm pretty low on inspiration. Therefore, keep in mind that I do take requests. Is there something from the main story that you want me to expand on? A romantic subplot? A non-romantic subplot? A minor character? Multiple minor characters? (God knows I'd be more than willing to write something about my OCs if someone wanted it.) aNYTHING???


	7. Adaptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group has lunch at Jacobi's and Tommy's partners save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Swearing, abuse, implied drinking, transphobia, injury.
> 
>  
> 
> (Written for the_athenian_pamphleteer)

~BASED AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE STORY~ 

 

 

                “So, Finch, what do you plan on doing when you graduate?” Les questioned as he picked the lettuce off of his sandwich.

                “I plan on going to college and working on a degree for architecture. What about you, kid?” Finch responded before showing a handful of French fries in their mouth.

                “I don’t know yet. I’m interested in so many things, but none of them have really stuck out as potential careers.” Les shrugged.

                “Are you sure he’s only nine, Davey?” Romeo joked.

                “He’s a smart kid. He gets it from his older brother.” Jack smiled and nudged David with his elbow.

                “Yeah, but he has no filter. I do.” David rolled his eyes.

                “Says the guy who cursed in front of our religious grandparents.” Les glanced around and pretended like he didn’t say anything.

                “We don’t talk about that,” David whispered.

                “No, wait. Hold on. I want to hear this.” Blink leaned forward and gestured for Les to elaborate.

                “ _We don’t talk about that._  Les, leave the lettuce alone. It’s good for you.”

                “Have you paid  _any_ attention to the news lately, David? I don’t plan on dying because of a leaf. No thank you.”

                “Then why didn’t you just order the sandwich without the lettuce on it?”

                “…Because I didn’t think about it. Tommy! What’re you planning on doing after you graduate? Are you doing something with that medical knowledge of yours or is that just a hobby?” Les quickly changed the subject, just as David had done a few seconds prior.

                Tommy swallowed a bite of his burger. “I plan on pursuing a career in dance. The medical knowledge is just…an adaptation.” He quickly glanced down and occupied himself with his drink.

                David looked over at JoJo and Buttons and raised an eyebrow. Both of them shrugged.

 

*** 

 

                Tommy Boy walked up to his house and unlocked the door with a hidden spare key. The house was silent and dark, just how he preferred it. That meant his mother wasn’t home. Just in case, though, he quietly tip-toed his way upstairs. The second he opened the door to his bedroom was when it all went to shit. The glass bottle only missed his head by a few inches. He quickly moved away from the shower of broken glass.

                “Mom? His voice came out as a whisper. His mother was sitting in front of him on his bed. The floor was littered with empty beer bottles and Tommy was prepared to dodge when she picked another one up and threw it at him. He didn’t say anything. He waited for her to start the conversation. Well, not really conversation. More like a battle.

                “A little birdie told me something at work today.” She started. He stood there and waited for her to continue. “Told me some bullshit about how ‘wonderful’ my ‘son’ and ‘his’ friends are. How there was some stupid revolt at your school and you helped. You know, I thought she just mistook you for someone else. No, no. She recognized you. Then I thought she might’ve mistaken you for a boy. Well, I came home and decided to do some digging.” She stood up and harshly pushed Tommy out of the way. She grabbed a box from the corner of the room he was standing in and threw it at his feet. He moved to dodge the box but ended up stepping on some of the broken glass in the process. He didn’t dare make any sound. His mother raised her eyebrows at the box, implying that he was supposed to open it.

                Tommy mentally cursed his shaking hands as he opened up the box. In the box was his binders, his packers, his pride shirts, and, well, his variety of strap-ons that might or might not have been used in his relationship. He didn’t know whether to be scared, embarrassed, or both.

                “Come to find out,  _you_ have mistaken  _yourself_ for a boy. Who the hell put that idea in your head? Was it those ‘friends’ of yours? Or was it your boyfriend? Oh, excuse me. ‘Boyfriends.’ Because you have two. That’s right. After finding all of that bullshit, I started going through your messages on your computer. I can’t believe you’re so despicable and selfish that you have to have multiple boyfriends. And one of them thinks he’s a girl sometimes! I bet  _that’s_  who you got it from. There’s something seriously fucking wrong with kids today. You’re either a girl or a boy and that can never be changed. Even if you get surgery, you’d never be a real girl or boy. Do his parents even know what he thinks he is? If so, then they’re terrible parents if they’re not doing anything about it.”

                Tommy knew it was dangerous to respond, but he couldn’t stop himself. “His mothers are better people than you’ll ever be.”

                He couldn’t dodge the punch that landed in his stomach. He crumpled to the ground and let her deliver blows to his face and torso. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It was just more injuries to fix…right? Not right. Everything went black.

 

*** 

 

                Images flashed before his eyes. Feet walking away. Being carried out of his house. People hovering over him. He didn’t know where he was, but he sure as hell knew it was bright. Was that what people meant when they talked about a bright light? Something moved in front of the light, then moved away. He blinked a few times, then managed to keep his eyes open. Well, one eye, at least.  (The other was swollen shut, but he didn’t know that.) There were people moving back and forth on both sides of him and he still couldn’t figure out where he was. There was some kind of incessant beeping in the background and it was slowly driving him insane. He could hear people trying to talk to him, but he didn’t recognize any of the voices. He wanted JoJo. He wanted Buttons. He wanted Buttons’ mothers. He wanted his friends. Anyone.

                “Jo…Jo? Buttons?” His voice sounded far away like his body was underwater but his voice wasn’t.

                “-aren’t allowed…right now-” That was all he could hear. That and the murmurs of medical terms he only halfway recognized. He  _knew_ he knew what they meant, but everything was fuzzy. Wait. Medical terms? Bright light? Beeping? Okay, he was in a hospital. Why was he in a hospital?

                “How is he?” Someone came in and asked. He…He knew that voice. Was that…

                “Specs?”

                “Yeah, hey, listen. I’m only in here because I’m an intern. You can’t have any visitors right now, but if you cooperate, then you can have them a hell of a lot sooner. Get me?”

                “10-4.”

 

***

 

                After a long while of being checked on, it was finally decided that Tommy could have visitors again. Specs told him quite a bit about his situation. He was in the ICU, he was gradually improving, and he had to be kept in there for observation, but if things kept going the way they already were, then he’d be out of there and in a normal room in no time. When Buttons and JoJo entered the room slowly and quietly, it was obvious someone told them not to barge in. (Probably Specs.)

                “Hey, baby. How are you?” Buttons whispered, sitting down in the chair to his left.

                “Been better. How about you guys?” Tommy tried to smile at him, but he felt a cut in his lip begin to split so he stopped.

                “That doesn’t matter right now, Tommy. Do…Do you remember what happened?” JoJo nervously glanced over Tommy’s body.

                “Not…really. I mean, I do, but it’s all fuzzy. I remember getting my ass kicked. I remember someone walking away from me. I remember being carried out of my house. That’s about it so far. Hey, Jo, why do you have a black eye?” Tommy questioned after looking over at him.

                JoJo glanced at Buttons, then turned his attention back to Tommy.

                “Tommy, do you remember texting us?”

                “…No.”

                “Well, you did. You, uh, sent us your location. At first, we thought you must’ve done it accidentally, but you didn’t send us anything else, so we decided to go to your house and see what was up. Your mother answered the door and immediately started throwing punches at us. I guess she knew who we were because she kept saying something about Buttons turning you into a…you know. I managed to get her away from Buttons, but when she heard him calling the police, she bolted. We ran upstairs to your room and, well, you look a lot better now than you did then. I’ll put it that way. You’ve been out for a good five days now. The cops wanted to talk to you as soon as you woke up, but Specs convinced the staff not to call them until the three of us got some time together.”

                It was all coming together. “She found out about me being trans and it didn’t go down so well.”

                “Has she done that to you before?” Buttons questioned.

                “Yeah, but I usually just fix myself up. Guess I knew I couldn’t fix it this time.” Tommy murmured, his voice monotone. “I don’t want to go back to her.”

                “Hey, don’t worry about that. We’ll see to it that you never have to deal with that woman again. We’ll  _all_  see to it. Right now, you need to focus on getting better. The sooner you get better, the sooner we can cuddle and eat pickle chips together.” JoJo grabbed Tommy’s hand and gently squeezed it.

                “Yeah, I’ll take the former over the latter. You two have fun with your disgrace-flavored chips.” Buttons groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL OKAY IT'S TAKEN ME FOREVER TO NOTICE THIS BUT I ACCIDENTALLY PUT THIS ON THE OFFICIAL STORY BC I WAS LITERALLY FALLING THE FUCK TO SLEEP WHEN I PUBLISHED IT AND WASN'T PAYING ANY ATTENTION. IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR IT ON THERE, IT WON'T BE THERE ANYMORE. IT'S HERE. I WANT TO LITERALLY ERASE MY DIGITAL EXISTENCE AND GO OFF THE GRID FOR ALL ETERNITY.


	8. Secretary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A closer look into the relationship that is Medda/Hannah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: The "s" word that rhymes with "rut," mention of dead-naming, light swearing, mention of child neglect, mention of homophobia, nsfw-ish content.
> 
>  
> 
> (Written for Anonymous. Wasn't sure if you wanted me to expand on one of their moments from the story or expand on their relationship entirely, so I decided, "why not both?")

_“’Hannah! They’re back!’ Wiesel whisper-yelled as he tumbled into the office with his nephews._

                ‘ _And who would that be, Mr. Wiesel?’ Hannah replied, not looking away from her computer screen as she typed with one hand and popped a blueberry in her mouth with the other._

                ‘ _You know exactly who we’re talking about, slut.’ Morris sneered._

                _Hannah didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding to his insult. ‘I suggest taking any and all problems regarding the large crowd of people outside to Mr. Pulitzer, as I can’t do anything about it.’ She popped another blueberry in her mouth. They rolled their eyes at her, then marched past her and entered Pulitzer’s office, slamming the door behind them. ‘Morons.’ She muttered. She hesitated, sighed, then put the lid on her blueberries and put them in a large filing cabinet. She opened the small drawer underneath her desk and pulled out a gay pride pin the size of her fist. She pinned it to her shirt and left the building.”_

  


 

_“When the doors opened, they all tensed again. However, it was just Hannah. As she neared, they could all see the pin attached to her chest. She took her place beside Medda._

                ‘ _Good to have you, Ms. Hannah.’ Jack gave her an earnest smile. She smiled back and nodded._

                ‘ _What made you join?’ Medda questioned, genuinely curious._

                ‘ _I’ve supported the cause since the very beginning. I’ve just been scared. But now I could care less…’”_

  


  
***

 

                Hannah silently entered Medda’s office, her hands clasped together behind her back. “You wanted to see me, Miss Medda?”

                “Ah, yes. I wanted to thank you for joining the cause and helping these kids. They really like you, you know?” Medda paused her writing and placed her pen down on her desk.

                Hannah cast her gaze to the side. “Why? I’m only a secretary.”

                “And I’m only a drama teacher.” Medda raised an eyebrow. Hannah still looked unsure, so she continued. “Hannah, let me tell you something. Jack would deny this if he were here, but despite how confident and fearless he appears when he’s called up to the office, he’s always scared to death. You call his name over the intercom and he tries to look calm, but if you look closely, you can still see that terrified little kid he used to be when he met me the first time. God knows I’ve tried to do something about how he and the other kids are treated at this school, but it never works. I’m so thankful this protest is working. But, I digress. I’ve witnessed first hand the effect you have on him. Like I said, he’s scared when you call him up there, but the second you greet him, it’s like...an indirect hug, almost. You’re just an overall open-minded and accepting person, and in this place, it’s like taking a breath of fresh air when he and the other kids see you. You know, the day David Jacobs came here, I went home to find Jack crying over a bowl of Lucky Charms. I walked up to him and asked, ‘Baby, what’s wrong?’ Between sobs, he said, ‘Ms. Hannah called me by my dead name today and when I told her, she corrected herself.’ And I was confused. ‘Why’re you crying?’ I asked. ‘Happy tears, Ma. Happy tears.’ And he looked at me with the brightest smile on his face. I came to realize that you were the only adult at this school that hadn’t given him any trouble about his name. Aside from me, of course. And then there’s Spot. Lord help my youngest boy. You and I both know he has a short temper. Actually, I think the entire school knows at this point. The only people in existence who can calm him down are his best friend Hot Shot, his boyfriend Anthony, me, and you. Deep down, he doesn’t like his temper, so he’s truly grateful for anyone who can calm him down. So, you may ‘just be a secretary,’ but you are also a beam of light in the otherwise dark experience these children have at this school. Plus, you’re the ‘do no harm, but take no shit’ kind of person, and so are the kids. Except for some of them. Some of them are ‘do _some_ harm, take no shit.’ You didn’t hear this from me, but I’m pretty sure Sabrina Hunt wasn’t lying when she said she’d kill Morris and Oscar Delancey for you. Though, there seemed to be something else going on as well...but you get my point.”

                “...Medda, thank you. Honestly.” Hannah smiled at her.

                Medda smiled back, then asked, “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what made you join the cause?”

                “I told you earlier. I was scared, but now I-”

                “No, I know that. What I mean is what made you...not scared anymore? You’d think the playwright would have a better way with words.” Medda commented under her breath.

                “I...I’ve always known that I wasn’t like everyone else. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve known. All of my friends were off getting boyfriends or fawning over boys and I just never understood it. After a while, I came to discover that what they felt toward boys, I felt toward women. I made the mistake of telling my parents and I came home one day to find all of my belongings strewn about the front yard. They had also changed the locks. I eventually caught the hint and I just simply found a motel and took care of myself. I’m not scared about a lot of things, but having people find out about me being...”

                “...Gay?”

                “Yes. Having people find out about me being...gay...has always been one of my biggest fears. And then me developing a...crush, as the kids say, on a _certain_ staff member only made it worse. I was near terrified when the children started the whole movement. But then I looked outside on the day of the second protest and saw you in the front of all of the kids and other adults and it made me realize that the movement was bigger than just me. That if things went wrong, I had people that would support me instead of...kick me out. So, that’s what made me ‘not scared anymore.’” Hannah’s lips curled up into a small smile as she quoted Medda’s terrible wording.

                Medda returned the smile and nodded. “Believe me, Hannah, you’ll _always_ have a support system here. There’s a lot of bad at this school, but these kids are never not here for each other and those like them. Like us. Now, would you like some coffee? Or some tea?”

                “I’d love that.”

  


***

  


                If there was one person to show up at your house at five in the morning, it would be Sarah Jacobs. _Especially_ when you hadn’t told her your address.

                “Hey, Ms. Hannah!” Sarah chirped when Hannah opened her door.

                “...Sarah? What are you doing here? It’s...five in the morning. Don’t you kids usually sleep until the afternoon when you don’t have to go to school? More importantly, how do you know where I live?”

                “That’s assuming I’ve actually been asleep. The last time I slept was...five days ago? All I know is that the bricks of your walls are definitely moving in and out of place. Anywho, I just came over to say that I wrote _a bunch_ of letters to the state a little while ago about what was going on at the school and I got a response back that said they’d look into it. I don’t know if they’re actually going to look into it or not, but hopefully, the interview I did with good ol’ Echo Hunt, which I sent in a video format via email and a typed format via letter, will convince them that this shit’s serious. But, anyway, have a nice day at work and I’ll hopefully see you again.” Sarah bowed, then took off down the street. (Notice how she avoided Hannah’s question about how she knew where she lived.)

                “I don’t know whether to be excited about that or concerned for my safety,” Hannah mumbled as she closed her door.

  


***  


 

                “So, Medda. Say we were in a _hypothetical_ situation where a _hypothetical_ member of our community _hypothetically_ sent _hypothetical_ letters to the _hypothetical_ state police and something _hypothetically_ might be done about the situation here at this school. What would you say?” Hannah questioned the second she stepped into Medda’s office.

                Medda turned away from her coffee machine to face Hannah. “Did Sarah Jacobs come to you, too?”

                “Yes! At five A.M.! I don’t know whether I should be concerned about her health or the fact that she completely avoided my question about how she knows where I live! Or both!” Hannah sat down in a chair in front of Medda’s desk.

                Medda laughed, then turned back to her coffee machine. “Sarah is an...intriguing...young woman. And, to answer your question, I wouldn’t get my hopes up. There’s a high possibility that something will be done, but there’s also the chance that they’ll just push us aside. However, considering the interview she did with Daniel Hunt, I don’t think they’d do that.”

                “Did she let you read it?”

                “She asked me to proofread it and her letters. She’s a really good writer; the only things I had to correct were spelling mistakes she made because she was deprived of sleep.” Medda grabbed her coffee mug and sat down behind her desk.

                “Yeah...do you think she’d make a good secretary? After she graduates, I mean.”

                “...Probably. I don’t know if she’d actually _do_ it, but she’d be a good choice. Are you thinking of leaving?” There was a near-undetectable hint of nervousness in Medda’s voice.

                “No, definitely not. I’m just...planning. Imagine this: Pulitzer and Snyder are gone and _we’re_ in charge. The kids would be safe and things would definitely start to change around here.” Hannah narrowed her eyes as she thought.

                “That would be the school board’s decision, but I’ll drink to that.” Medda raised her mug, then took a swig and smiled. “What would you do if you were in charge?”

                “Well,” she stood up and walked over to Medda’s desk, “I’d start with fully funding the GSA. Since the kids have been working so hard on their talent show, I’d let them do whatever they wanted to with the money they would earn from it. Then, I’d talk to the school board to see if we could do anything to change that _god-awful_ name that Pulitzer gave the school.” She rolled her eyes and perched herself upon the desk.

                Medda laughed and replied, “I like that idea.” She glanced over at Hannah and looked her up and down. “I don’t mean to stick my nose in your business again, but you mentioned yesterday that you had a ‘crush’ on a staff member.”

                “...Yes.”

                “Would it be wrong to think it’s me?”

                “No. It’d be right. Would it be wrong to ask if you feel the same way?”

                “No, it’d be right. Would it be wrong to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

                “No, it’d be right. Would it be wrong to ask you out once this whole fiasco’s over with?”

                As they went back and forth, they gradually moved closer to each other. Once they were mere centimeters away from each other, Medda responded with, “No, it’d be right. Would it be wrong to ask if I can kiss you?”

                “It’d be so right.”

                Medda leaned forward and connected their lips. They slowly moved against each other until Medda reached behind her and knocked everything off of her desk in a single swipe as a silent invitation. Hannah answered by backing Medda into the desk and helping her on top of it. She then crawled on top of here and straddled her hips.

                “Are we moving too fast?” Hannah questioned.

                “I like fast,” Medda smirked up at her.

                “Medda Larkin, you tease.” Hannah laughed, then leaned down to recapture Medda’s lips with her own. They continued kissing until Medda moved her mouth down to Hannah’s neck and begun to suck dark marks into her skin. Medda was reaching to unbutton Hannah’s blouse when-

                The side door to Medda’s office opened, then slammed shut.

                “Who was that?” Hannah asked.

                “The only people that have keys to that door are Pulitzer, Snyder, and my boys, so for my sake and yours I hope it’s someone trying to rob me.” Medda pinched the bridge of her nose and creased her eyebrows.

                “ _A few minutes later, the door was opened. They had fixed themselves up a bit, but they were both a bit out of breath and Hannah’s skin was the shade of her hair._

_‘So, heh, that’s one heck of a play you’re writing, Miss Medda.’ David laughed awkwardly._

_‘To be fair, I_ __was_ _ _working on it, but then I got a bit…distracted.’ She smiled sheepishly._

_‘_ __A bit_ _ _distracted?’ Jack still refused to uncover his face.”_

  


***

  


                “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you? Are the kids? Is anyone allergic to anything? Which, I probably should’ve asked that before I started cooking. Oh god, that makes it sound like I’m cooking the cats. I promise I’m not cooking my cats. Is anyone-”

                “Hannah, baby, relax. The only one who is allergic to anything is Racetrack and he’s allergic to bees, so as long as you aren’t a beekeeper in your free time, then everyone should be good.” Medda shook her head and smiled as she heard various clanging sounds on the other end of the phone call.

                “Alright, good. Oh god.” Everything suddenly went quiet.

                “What happened? Are you alright?” Medda sat up on the couch and furrowed her eyebrows in worry.

                “...I burnt it. How do you and the kids feel about going to a restaurant? Maybe Golden Corral?”

                Medda pulled away from her phone to yell to the kids upstairs. “How does everyone feel about Golden Corral?”

                “Sounds good!”

                “I’m down!”

                “Sure!”

                “Hell yeah!”

                She put her phone back to her ear. “Sounds good. There might be a _small_ issue, though.”

                “...Yes?” Hannah asked cautiously.

                “If Spot catches sight of a cat, you won’t be able to drag him away from it.”

  


***  


 

                “Wow. I feel...under-dressed.” Hannah said when she opened her front door. Standing outside was her girlfriend, her children, and their boyfriends.

                “They do this every time they go out,” Medda explained.

                “Ma, it’s not all the time I get to dress up. Let me _live_.” Jack observed his reflection on his phone screen and fixed his tie.

                The four boys- Jack, David, Race, and Spot- were all dressed in formal clothing. Jack was in a full suit (with a long coat and a hat), and David was just waiting for him to pull a monocle out of thin air. Speaking of David, he was simply dressed in nice pants, a button up shirt, and a long-sleeved sweater. Spot was in a normal suit. His pants were solid black, but the jacket was black with a pattern of crimson roses. Meanwhile, Race looked like he just jumped out of a Green Day music video with his black jeans, black button up, and red tie. (And eyeliner, of course.)

                “I apologize for my boyfriend, Ms. Hannah. He’s being a bit-” David was cut off by a sudden inhuman shriek.

                “ _Is that a cat!?_ ” Spot exclaimed.

                “Oh god. Here we go. Time to go eat, baby. You can play with the cat another time.” Race spun Spot around toward the vehicle and walked him toward it.

                “But-”

                “I know, babe.”

                “I learn new things about Spot Conlon every day,” David mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, okay, I got a new laptop and your bitch can't pay for Word, so I found LibreOffice Writer and honestly??? It's so good??? And it's free??? I don't think it has all of the features Word has, but it's pretty damn close. I'd say if you're just writing, then it's the way to go. Also, it looks very similar to Word so there isn't much hunt-and-search.


	9. Spring Rider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A closer look into the surprisingly functioning friendship that is Finch & Blink. (Featuring a fluffy bit and a longer angsty bit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Mention of murder, swearing, injury mention, blood mention, drug mention, weapon mention, underage drinking, transphobia, mentioned aphobia.
> 
>  
> 
> (I PROMISE IT'S NOT AS BAD AS IT SOUNDS)
> 
> (Written for willatree3510.)

                “So, let me ask you something.” Finch sat up on their bed and peered down at Blink, who was on the floor bedazzling his eye patch.

                “Yeah?”

                “Say I went back in time and died there, then you found my obituary in an old newspaper or something. Would you go back in time to try and save me?”

                “Fam. _The Butterfly Effect_.”

                “...The Ashton Kutcher movie?”

                “No, Birdman, the _literal_ butterfly effect.” Blink put the bedazzling gun down and put the eye patch back on. He then pulled himself up onto Finch’s bed.

                “’Bird-’ The what?” Finch fully sat up to give Blink more room.

                “The butterfly effect. You know, where a small change can cause a big change?”

                “Yeah, I still have no idea what you’re going on about.”

                “Oh my god. Okay, so, let’s use your situation as an example. You go back in time and I find your obituary. Say I go back in time and save your life, then you accidentally kill a guy, then his brother gets mad at you and goes on a killing rampage, then someone else gets mad and starts killing people, and then the apocalypse is started and the future is now run by anthropomorphic hermit crabs that are hellbent on taking out people named after birds.”

                Finch simply sat there and stared at him.

                “Do you understand now?”

                “I get your point. But I don’t think it’d be that drastic. I mean, how in the hell is me killing someone going to lead to anthropomorphic hermit crabs?”

                “That’s the butterfly effect! You change the _tiniest_ thing in the past and it can completely fuck up the future. Ask Davey. He watches that show with the time-traveling doctor guy; I’m sure they talk about it somewhere.”

                “Blink, I highly doubt- Hold on. Did you say the crabs would be hellbent on taking out people named after birds?”

                “Yeah, because you started the whole shebang when you killed that guy’s brother. The crabs are mad at you.”

                “The crabs are- That’s insane and ridiculous.”

                “Crabs have feelings, too, Finch. And, you don’t know what could happen in the post-apocalyptic future. A nuclear blast could be set off that eradicates all humans and turns all animals into anthropomorphic versions of themselves.”

                “But if all humans are eradicated, then that blows a hole in your thing about the crabs targeting people named after- I can’t believe I’m playing into this.”

                “Alright, alright. Here’s a more believable perspective: Say I somehow ended up with a cure for the infection that took over my eye. Would I go back in time to save my eye? No, I wouldn’t.”

                “But...why?” Finch furrowed their eyebrows in confusion.

                “Because I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I did. Sure, it sucks sometimes, but who knows what would happen if it went differently. Hell, I might not have even met you and that would be awful because you and I both know you can’t function without me.” Blink smirked.

                “Ah, yes. All of my time away from you is spent moping around and waiting for you to come back. And, yeah, I guess you have a point.”

                “There we go. The Butterfly Effect.”

                “Which, that’s also assuming time travel is real.”

                “...You don’t believe in time travel?”

                “...No. In the future, maybe, but in present time? No way.”

                “I can’t believe you d-”

                “Lou, c’mon. We don’t have time to discuss time travel. We’re going to be late for my set.”

                “You started it.”

  


***

  


                Finch was typically calm, except in high-stress situations, so when Blink heard their frantic voice over the phone, he knew something was seriously wrong.

                “Finch? Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?” Blink questioned as he buttoned up his jacket with one hand, already prepared to leave the house.

                “He found out. My dad found out.”

                “Found out about what?”

                “He found about me being nonbinary. And it...didn’t go well.”

                “Did he do something to you?”

                “What? No. He just...you know how he is. He doesn’t believe me. Well, it’s not that he doesn’t believe _me_ , it’s that he doesn’t think nonbinary genders are real, so he thinks I’m...confused, I guess. I just don’t want to be here right now.”

                “Alright, I’m coming to get you. Hold tight.” Finch could hear the sound of Blink’s motorcycle firing up in the background.

                “Alright.”

  


***  


 

**~LATER~**

  


Blink parked in the lot of the park down the street from Finch’s house. On nights like these, Blink would park there and Finch would sneak out through their window so that if their dad figured out that they snuck out, he wouldn’t know that Blink was the one who helped them. When Finch made it to the park, they spotted Blink lying on the ground in front of a frog-shaped spring rider. They power-walked over and peered down at him.

                “I rocked too hard and flew off.” He groaned.

                “Idiot.” Finch sighed before helping him up. Once they realized that his lip was bleeding, they added, “Correction: fucking idiot.”

                “I agree.” He pulled a red bandana out of his pocket and dabbed at his lip with it.

                “...Isn’t that Jack’s?”

                “Yeah. Don’t tell him.”

                “Didn’t Albert steal it?”

                “Yeah, then I stole it from him. Don’t tell him, either.” Blink gave them a smirk before leading them back to his motorcycle. “So, where are we going?”

                “A club or a party or something. I want a distraction. Surprise me.” Finch shrugged.

                Blink bit his lip in thought, then smirked again. “I know just the place. Hop on.”

  


***

  


**~MUCH LATER~**

  


“Echo’s place?” Finch whispered as they followed Blink down the familiar alleyway in the Bronx.

                “Kind of.” Blink replied. “The guy that Oscar’s goons were supposed to target ‘gave’ Echo his building as an apology and then got the hell out of Dodge.”

                The way Blink put quotations around the word “gave” rubbed them the wrong way, but they brushed it off. “And?”

                “Rumors are that he did something with the basement of that building. I don’t know exactly what that ‘something’ is, but we’re about to find out. It’s undoubtedly illegal, whatever it is.” Blink strode up to the door and pounded on it with his fist.

                Almost ten seconds later, the slot slid open on the door. “Password?” A thick Southern accent called out. They both recognized it as Texas Roberts’ accent, the Southern boy from Brooklyn that helped them during the protest.

                “Texas? Is that you?” Blink responded.

                “...Kid Blink?”

                “’Tis I. Oh, and Finch Cortes.”

                The slot slid shut and they could hear the sounds of what seemed to be hundreds of locks being unlocked. The man who opened the door wasn’t Texas but was the owner of the building.

                “You two like the accent? I’ve been working on it, but it isn’t hard considering the guy who the accent belongs to is in my bed almost every night.” Echo made a clicking sound with his tongue (which Urban Dictionary says is called “chlick”) and pointed at them with finger-guns.

                “Well, considering the fact that we both thought it was your boyfriend, I think you’ve pretty much got it down,” Finch replied.

                “Sugar, stop bragging about our sex life and invite them in before they get mugged or something.” The real Texas called out in the background.

                “Alright, alright. Come in, kids.”

                “We’re literally the same age.” Blink chuckled.

                “Yeah, but I’m taller.” Echo walked over to another door and put his hand on the handle, but paused before opening it. “Ground rules: No drugs. No smoking. No weapons. Don’t do anything stupid. And, the bartenders won’t serve non-alcoholic drinks to minors, but if you want to hang around until after hours, then I might or might not have a stash in the shop.” After he was finished, he pulled open the door. Finch and Blink were nearly blown back by the loud music that flooded the room. They started the descent downstairs, followed by Echo and Texas. It turns out that he had turned the basement of that building into a club.

                “Have you ever done this before?” Finch yelled over the music.

                “Nope. You?” Blink yelled back.

                “Nope.” They both stood there looking out at all of the dancing people illuminated under black lights. They then looked at each other and smiled, then took off into the crowd of people.

  


***

  


**~AFTER HOURS~**

  


                “And then he was all like, ‘Oh, you’re just a teenager. You’re still trying to find your place in the world and it’s okay for you to explore, but I don’t want you to get hurt by thinking you’re something that isn’t real.’ Like, what the hell is that even supposed to mean!?” Finch’s words were slurred as they spoke.

                “He actually said that?” Echo questioned.

                “Dead. Ass. He was serious, too. I don’t even want to open the ‘I’m aroace’ barrel of monkeys. He’d probably spew the ‘just wait until you’re older’ or ‘you haven’t met the right person’ bullshit. You know, this is off-topic, but I had a girl ask me if I was attracted to dogs.”

                Texas nearly choked on his drink. “Are you fucking serious? Why?”

                “She asked me what my sexuality is-”

                “Like it was her business.” Blink interrupted, then gestured for Finch to continue.

                “-And I told her. I could see the wheels turning, but then she was all like, ‘So...do you like...dogs?’ Because she couldn’t process the fact that I’m not sexually or romantically attracted to anyone!”

                “I was there. It was bad.” Blink shook his head at the memory as he took a sip of his soda. (He had to drive Finch home, so he opted out of the alcohol.)

                “Very bad. So, anyway, back to the topic. I was dumbstruck. I didn’t know what the hell to do, so I just agreed with him and he let me go on about my night. That’s when I called the Spongebob to my quite literal Patrick and here we are. Oh, and he busted his lip on the playground.”

                “Oh god. I was hoping you’d forget about that.” Blink groaned.

                “I’m never letting you live it down.”

                “I figured.”

                “...How did you bust your lip on the playground?” Echo asked confusedly.

                “And where does the playground come into play in the story? Pardon my word choice.” Texas added.

                “There’s a park with a playground down the street from their house. I parked my motorcycle there and they walked over so that their dad wouldn’t know that they snuck out.” That’s the reasoning Finch always told him, anyway.

                “You left a little something out,” Finch whispered, smiling.

                “I rocked too hard on a spring rider and I flew off the front of it.”

                The other two were completely silent for a few seconds before they started laughing in unison.

                “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Laugh it up.”

  
  


***

  


**~THE NEXT MORNING...OR, WELL, LATER THAT MORNING SINCE IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT WHEN THEY GOT BACK~**

  


The last thing Finch remembered was getting on the back of Blink’s motorcycle after reluctantly leaving the Bronx. He must have helped them inside, because there was no way they got inside themselves, considering how wasted they were. They groaned and slowly sat up in their bed. Their head pounded and the taste of alcohol still lingered in their mouth. They looked over at their nightstand and noticed a glass of water, two small pills, and a note. They swung their legs over the side of their bed, then grabbed the note and read it.

                “ _Who knew Hawkeye could party so hard? You’ll need these._ ” The note was signed off by a sketch of an eyeball, which made it obvious that it was left by Blink.

                Finch smiled at the note, then put it down and took the pills. They got up off of their bed and went to open their bedroom door, but paused when they noticed another note stuck to the back of the door.

                “ _Go take a shower, stinky. The evidence of the crime is all over you._ ” They looked down and noticed dried UV paint coated on their skin. They trudged over to their bathroom and on the counter was an entire tin of breath mints.

                “ _Your breath is terrible now. I’d hate to know what it’ll smell like when you wake up._ ” They popped a few of the mints into their mouth, then shrugged off their pajamas and...pajamas? Whatever. They’d worry about it after their shower.

                Sure enough, there was another note attached to their closet door. “ _Yes, you’re in your pajamas. Or...were. Idk when you’ll be reading this. Anyway, if you don’t remember, I helped you get into your pajamas. No, I didn’t look, thank god. I also took your clothes so I could wash them. They_ ** _reek_** _of alcohol. Hope you don’t mind. XOXO, Mama Bird._ ”

                “I hate and love him so much.” Finch huffed. They walked around and picked every note up, made sure there weren’t anymore lying around, then put them all in a drawer beneath their bed. They opened their bedroom door and shuffled downstairs, where their father, Blink, and Mush had been waiting for god knows how long. “...Hey.”

                “Hey, Pat, why don’t you come sit down?” Mush scooted over and offered them a seat in the large bean bag chair.

                “Why does this feel like an intervention? Did I do something?” Finch asked as they took the seat.

                “No, you didn’t do anything. Your dad texted us earlier and asked for some...help, but we didn’t want to say anything without you here to give your input.” Blink explained.

                The three of them then turned to Mr. Cortes, who was sitting in front of them. “I want to apologize for last night. I think I responded to the situation in the wrong way. I only voiced my side and didn’t give you the choice to voice yours, so I’m sorry.”

                “...It’s alright, dad.”

                “Is it okay if I...ask questions?”

                “Yeah, totally.”

                “Okay, uh...what’s the difference between binary and nonbinary?”

                “Well, binary is basically male or female. Nonbinary is an umbrella term used for any gender that _isn’t_ male or female. There are specific terms for nonbinary genders, but some people, like me, just identify as nonbinary.”

                “Can you explain that a bit more? Nonbinary, I mean?”

                “It’s...it’s kind of like music. Like, you have genres of music, but then you have sub-genres. So, let’s take rock. There’s rock, but then there’s hard rock, classic rock, punk rock, etc. And, every experience isn’t the same. You might have two hard rock bands, but they aren’t going to sound _exactly_ the same.”

                “ _Oh_. Oh my god, okay. I think I’m starting to get it. Uh, you said every experience isn’t the same. Can you elaborate?”

                “Alright, well, I feel genderless. I don’t have a gender. Whereas other people might feel neutral, two genders, multiple genders, etc.”

                “Are there other nonbinary people at your school? Or that you know?”

                Mush raised their hand and wiggled their fingers. “Me. Among other people, but I’d rather have their permission before revealing their identities. Also, I feel neutral. It’s like...imagine a circle with a line through it. On one point of the line is female, and on the other point is male. I feel like I fall in the middle of that line. Not a mixture of male and female, but somewhere in the neutrality of the middle.”

                “Going with that metaphor, I fall outside of the circle entirely,” Finch added.

                “That makes so much more sense. Google wasn’t being very helpful. What pronouns do you want me to use? All of you?”

                “My pronouns are they/them, but not all nonbinary people use those. Like I said, every experience isn’t the same.”

                “My pronouns are also they/them.”

                “I’m a cisgender male, so mine are he/him. That basically means I was assigned male at birth and my gender aligns with that.” Blink explained.

                “Are you comfortable with the term ‘guys?’ Like, ‘guys’ as in a collective group of people and not as in a collective group of male people?”

                “I mean, I am. Some people might not be, but I am.” Finch looked to Mush.

                “Yeah, same. As long as it’s used in that context.”

                “What about names? Are you okay with your name? Because I’m totally chill with getting it legally changed if you want to.”

                “I’m alright with it, but I prefer ‘Pat’ to ‘Patrick.’ And, of course, there’s always ‘Finch,’ but if you aren’t going for a nickname, then ‘Pat’ is the way to go.”

                “I like to just go by my nickname, Mush.”

                “Alright. I think...I think I’ve got it. Thank you so much. And...Pat? I love you and accept you for who you are.”

                Tears started to shine in Finch’s eyes. “Thank you, dad.”

                Mr. Cortes smiled, then stood up. Finch stood as well and they both hugged each other tightly. After a few minutes, they pulled apart and Mr. Cortes gave them a small pat on the head and said, “Oh, and the next time you decide to sneak out, close your window. Now, who wants coffee?”


	10. UPDATE

Y'ALL OKAY SO I'M NOT DEAD, I JUST DON'T HAVE ANY INSPIRATION. REMEMBER THAT I DO TAKE REQUESTS. ANYWHO, I JUST THOUGHT I'D TELL YOU GUYS THAT THERE IS NOTHING SCARIER THAN YOUR THERAPIST BEING IN THE FANDOM YOU WRITE FANFIC FOR.


	11. Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Albert and his beautiful girl. // A look into Elmer and their beautiful boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Transphobia, misgendering, swearing, weapon use, violence, sexism, child abuse mention.
> 
> (Literally all I can seem to write is hurt/comfort I'm so sorry asdfghjkl)
> 
> (Written for willatree3510.)

                “Which shade would look better on me?” Elmer held up two different shades of lipstick up to her face and raised an eyebrow at Albert.

                “Any shade looks good on you, babe,” Albert responded, gazing at her with a smile on his face.

                “ _Babe_. We can’t buy every shade of lipstick in CVS.”

                “I know, but you can’t just make me choose! You’re amazingly beautiful no matter what you wear or put on your face.”

                Elmer smiled back at him. “I’ll get both of them.” She placed both of the tubes in the shopping cart, then turned to walk away from the makeup aisle. They were both met with the sight of a scowling woman in front of them.

                “...Is there a problem, miss?” Albert asked politely.

                “Makeup is for girls.” She spat.

                “And?”

                “He shouldn’t be buying it.”

                “Well, miss, there’s two things you have wrong. One: Makeup isn’t only for girls. Two: This is El. My girlfriend.”

                “ _That_ is very obviously not a girl.”

                Albert opened his mouth to respond but paused when Elmer tugged on his arm. “C’mon, Albie. Let’s just go. It isn’t worth it.”

                They turned around to exit the aisle the opposite way, but they were blocked by a large man. “These boys bothering you, hon?” He asked the woman.

                “They’re trying to buy lipstick and they keep insisting that this one is a girl.”

                The man nodded his head and looked down at Albert and Elmer. “Just put the makeup back and we won’t have any trouble.”

                “Hold on. Who are you exactly and why do you get to tell two total strangers what they can and can’t buy?” Albert dropped the polite attitude narrowed his eyes at the man.

                “Your worst nightmare if you don’t put the damn makeup back.” The man stepped forward. He was so close to Albert that the latter’s chin was nearly touching the man’s chest.

                “Albie,” Elmer begged.

                Albert glanced over at Elmer and winked, then gestured behind them with his eyes. Elmer immediately caught on.

                Albert looked back at the man and smirked. “Toodles.” He said with a wiggle of his fingers. He dropped to his knees and slid in between the man’s legs, then started running. At the same time, Elmer grabbed the shopping cart and sped past the woman. Elmer made a sharp turn and raced down the next aisle toward Albert. Once they were close enough to each other, Albert jumped and landed in the cart, thankfully not breaking anything inside. Elmer quickly spun back around and ran toward the checkout counter. The other couple wouldn’t try anything up there where the workers could see...hopefully.

                They successfully bought their items and made it out of the store without any more trouble. When they got to Sniper’s red convertible Mustang, however, is when shit went down. They were putting their few bags in the back-right seat when the couple came out of the store. Lucky them, they were parked right next to the convertible.

                “Great,” Albert muttered.

                “Please don’t do anything, Albie,” Elmer whispered back.

                “Don’t plan on it, unless that fucker says something else.”

                Sniper turned around from the driver’s seat to look at them. “Did something happen?”

                “Just two idiots. It really doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” Elmer replied.

                “Start the car, Sniper,” Albert whispered.

                “Albie, pl-”

                “How funny. Thought you could get away, huh?” The man questioned as he stalked over to them.

                “Back off, man. We’re just trying to leave.” Albert made no move to fight the man.

                “Should’ve thought about that before buying that shit for your sissy boyfriend.” The man grabbed Albert by his shirt collar and tossed him to the ground.

                “Shit.” Sniper hissed. As soon as she exited her vehicle, she was on the ground. She couldn’t move. She glanced down and saw barbs sticking out of her leg. “That has to be...illegal.” She grunted. She looked up to see the woman on the other end of the weapon.

                Meanwhile, the man approached Elmer.

                “Stay away from me.” She warned, holding her hand out in front of her and backing away.

                “This’ll be easy. Since you seem to think you’re a girl, I bet you hit like one.” The man threw a punch.

                Elmer suddenly froze. A surge of anger ripped through her and she ducked. “Damn right I do.” Her body moved into a fighting stance with ease and she slung her fist, landing the punch on the man’s jaw. He stumbled backward a bit and that’s when she brought her foot up and kicked him in the stomach. When he crumpled to the ground, Elmer took the few seconds to help Albert up and get him in the vehicle. She ran to the other side where Sniper was on the ground. The woman had abandoned the taser and was trying to help her husband up. Elmer carefully plucked the barbs out of Sniper’s body and pushed her into the car. Finally, Elmer slid into the driver’s seat and sped off.

                “Well, that sucked.” Sniper groaned.

                “Tell me about it.” Albert snickered. “Hey, babe, I didn’t know you could kick ass like that.”

                “I don’t like doing it, but sometimes it’s necessary. Growing up in Brooklyn had a few perks.”

                “Speaking of, where are we going?” Sniper questioned.

                “Brooklyn.” They had been in Queens and Brooklyn was frankly closer to get to than Manhattan.

                “Why Brooklyn?” Albert looked over at his girlfriend in confusion. He knew she didn’t like going to Brooklyn.

                “I know people there. Plus, Spot and Hot Shot are over there on business. Figured we’d crash the party. Also, we have company.” Elmer eyed the rear-view mirror.

                Albert and Sniper whipped around to look behind them. It was the couple.

                “Are you _shitting_ me? They’re fucking relentless!” Sniper shouted.

                “Don’t worry about it.” The way she told them not to worry sounded much different from when she said it to Sniper earlier. When she said it to Sniper, it was desperate. It was a, “ _Please, don’t worry about it. Don’t get involved. Let’s just leave._ ” This time it was a, “ _I can handle it. Don’t worry about it_.” It was alien.

                Not that Elmer couldn’t handle herself. Everyone knew she was capable of handling herself. Sniper had never heard that tone and Albert hadn’t heard it since Elmer first arrived at Pearst. She was hardened from her experiences. She was different from Spot and Hot Shot. Spot was hardened because he was a leader, and Hot Shot was hardened because they were Spot’s second in command. Elmer was hardened because her home life was more dangerous than the streets of Brooklyn. Therefore, it had taken her a while to trust the others in Manhattan.

                Albert was almost afraid. As mentioned above, it took Elmer awhile to trust everyone at Pearst. It took her longer to let Albert in. The others didn’t have to know everything. They didn’t have to know her story. They didn’t have to know what she ran away from. All they knew was that Elmer was not to be fucked with and that she flinched whenever she heard the name “Brooklyn.” Albert, however, was her boyfriend. He didn’t _have_ to know everything, but she wanted him to. She didn’t want to keep secrets from him. He told her all about his past with his father being in jail, so she only figured it was fair to tell him about her past. It definitely took her a while to tell him, but Albert finally learned why she was hesitant to fight, why she constantly looked over her shoulder, and why she got nervous around people who smoked. Albert finally saw the scars on her skin left from bullet holes, blades, and cigarettes. Albert saw her.

                After a while, they finally made it to Brooklyn. Elmer parked Sniper’s Mustang in a large parking garage and the three of them quickly jumped the side when the couple drove by. Elmer led Albert and Sniper over to the abandoned building in the Navy Yard.

                “Walk in with your hands up.” She whispered.

                “What?” Albert asked worriedly.

                “Just do it.”

                Sniper and Albert hesitantly held their hands up and continued into the building. Albert nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a gun pressed into his back. Sniper was indifferent. Elmer was ready.

                “State your name and purpose!”

                “Elmer. In need of protection. With me, I have my boyfriend and Tex’s boyfriend’s sister’s girlfriend.”

                Caper, the fiery red-headed girl, dropped down from a suspended walkway much like she did when Elmer came with Spot to recruit Brooklyn for the protest. “You know, you could’ve just said Sabrina Hunt’s girlfriend. The Hunt twins are well-liked around here.”

                “Ah, shut up.” Elmer rolled her eyes and smiled.

                “So, this is Albert, huh? We never got a chance to meet at the protest. I have to give my best friend stamp of approval.” Caper moved around Elmer to look at Albert, who still had his hands up.

                “You were just ready to kick that guy’s ass earlier. What’s gotten into you?” Sniper was holding back laughter.

                “Kicking ass is my territory. Brooklyn is quite literally _not_ my territory.” Albert replied.

                “Lighten up, Red. We don’t bite. Hard. Speaking of red, I’ve never seen hair this red, and that’s coming from someone with fire on her head. I like it.”

                “Th-Thanks.”

                “Okay, I like you. You have my approval.”

                “Don’t people usually question the partner before they give their approval?” Sniper asked.

                “I have special best friend powers. Texas is the one who interrogates the partners. Be glad he’s off sucking Daniel Hunt’s dick or something.” Caper said “partners” with a horribly fake Southern accent. “Anyway, back to business. You said you needed protection.”

                “We were minding our own business in a CVS in Queens when a woman came up and told us that I shouldn’t be buying makeup because it’s for girls. Her husband then approached and threatened violence. We managed to get away from them, but they were parked right beside us. Long story short, Albert smacked his face on the ground, Sniper got tased, and the man got to know what it feels like to be hit by a girl.”

                “Damn, Elm.” Caper smirked. Elmer shrugged in response.

                A few hours later, they decided it was time to leave. The entire ride back to Manhattan, Elmer was silent. She simply sat in the passenger’s seat staring straight ahead. The only time she moved was when Albert asked if she wanted to come over. She nodded her head. When they arrived at Albert’s house, she grabbed some of the bags and headed up to the front door. Albert grabbed the rest and followed. His older brothers were still at work, so the house was empty. They trudged to his room and set the bags down on the floor. Albert sat down in the middle of his bed, waiting to see what Elmer would do. Wordlessly, she crawled up the bed in front of him and rested her forehead against his chest. Albert ran his hands up and down her back as her shoulders shook.

                “It’s alright, El. You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone get to you. If I have to beat someone black and blue, so be it. If I get hurt in the process, so be it. No one will harm my beautiful girl.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

                A phone call from Albert’s middle brother was the last thing Elmer expected to receive at three A.M. on a school night- err...morning. They were asleep, but they didn’t let Joshua know that.

                “Elmer, hey. Uh...sorry for calling you at this hour, but-” Joshua cut himself off and a strangled cry could be heard on his end of the call.

                Elmer immediately sat up. “Is that Albert?” They questioned.

                “Yeah, he’s...he isn’t doing too well. Something’s got him really spooked and he won’t let Spencer and I near him. I figured if anyone could get through to him it’d be you.”

                “I’ll be right over.”

  


***

  


                “Hey, Josh. Spence. Is he in his room?” Elmer asked the moment they were let into the house.

                “Yep.” The brothers responded in unison.

                Elmer sped off down the long hallway and finally came to a stop in front of Albert’s bedroom door. Without thinking, they opened the door without knocking. The room was dark. Elmer couldn’t see anything, but they could _definitely_ hear the rapid breathing and high-pitched whimpering of their boyfriend coming from somewhere in the room.

                “Albert?” They whispered. No response. “Albie? Where are you?” They stumbled farther into a room and pressed the unlock button on their phone to light up the room a bit.

                Albert was sitting on his bed with his knees drawn up to his chest. He was softly rocking himself back and forth and his face glistened in the dim light from the tears that cascaded down his cheeks. He let out a shaky exhale and slightly turned his head to look at Elmer. He bit his lip and turned his head in the opposite direction to hide his face. All Elmer could see was his shoulders violently shaking.

                Elmer knew the drill. No matter the cause of this reaction, the solution was always the same. Any unexpected or inconspicuous motion could make it even worse, so Elmer had to make sure that Albert knew what they were doing.

                “Hey, Albie. I’m going to lay down next to you, alright?” They knew he wouldn’t respond, but they still liked to give him the chance to reject the action. Albert never spoke when he was like that, and Elmer didn’t make him.

                Elmer slowly moved to the bed and gingerly took their place on the left side. As soon as they were settled, Albert scooted up and laid down in between their legs, with his head on their chest.

                “I’m going to run my fingers through your hair, alright, baby?” Elmer felt Albert nod his head. That was good. Response was good. Elmer reached down and started to card their fingers through Albert’s hair. The simple touch could calm him down almost immediately.

                After a while, his crying had been reduced to sniffling. “I...I heard someone outside. I _thought_ I heard s-someone outside. I looked outside my window and I...I could’ve sworn I saw a shadow o-or a figure or something move out of my sight. All I c-could think of was my father. All I could think of was him coming back and...and…” Albert’s voice began to crack and he cut himself off. He cleared his throat. “I started freaking out and Josh and Spence tried to calm me down, but they just made matters worse. I-It wasn’t their faults or anything, they just look so much like...like _him_. It’s impossible to calm down when the thing you’re scared of is right in front of you.”

                Elmer thought for a few seconds about how to respond. “I...I can’t erase your pain, but I can ease it. And I can’t erase what he did to you and your brothers, but I can help you through it. As long as I’m around, though, you can count on me not letting him lay a finger on you. He will never hurt you again if I have any say in it. You’re safe with me. I won’t let him get to you. If I have to beat him black and blue, so be it. If I get hurt in the process, so be it. No one will harm my beautiful boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In the main story, I originally intended for Bill and Darcy to show up, but they never made it into the final cut and it kind of makes me upset. Would you guys be interested in a short story involving those two?)


	12. UPDATE

Okay, so, the Bill and Darcy story is coming. It's been in the works for a long time now (a long with another story not affiliated with this series), but I have to say that it won't be published very soon. By that, I mean that it won't be posted until after the month of April. 

My school is putting on a production of Rock of Ages and I got the role of Lonny! (If you've never seen/heard Rock of Ages, Lonny is the narrator of the show. He's fucking hilarious and I love him more with every day.) We have a very limited amount of time to rehearse, so my free time is being spent memorizing my lines. Our shows are at the end of April, so that's why the chapter won't be out until after the month is over.

 

Thank you!


	13. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The background of the relationship that is Bill Hearst Reid and Darcy Reid, along with a small scene that ties up a loose end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Alcohol mention, death mention, toxic relationship mention, injury mention, swearing.
> 
>  
> 
> Hey, it's been a while! I was caught up in a musical for the month of April, but I started back on this as soon as I was done, so here's the Bill & Darcy backstory as promised!

  


_**~BASED WAY BEFORE THE MAIN STORY PLOT. THE MAIN KIDS ARE IN MIDDLE SCHOOL (7** **th** **GRADE) AT THIS POINT. BILL AND DARCY ARE JUNIORS (11** **th** **GRADE).~** _

  


                William Hearst- or, well, Bill- didn’t usually go to coffee shops. His father owned one of those huge, fancy coffee machines, so he usually just used that. He liked to make his coffee himself, even though he could snap his fingers and their maid would show up at his bedroom door, mug in hand. He hated just ordering her around like his father did. She lovingly fussed at him every time she caught him doing it, but he couldn’t bring himself to act like his father in any way, shape, or form. He needed a change of pace, though, and that was why he was on the doorstep of a small cafe on a Sunday morning.

                He walked in and was immediately greeted by the smell of coffee. He smiled, sighed, then continued inside. He ventured up to the counter and was immediately greeted by another teenager around his age running in from the back area. They were covered in flour from head to toe.

                “God, I’m so sorry. You weren’t waiting too long, were you?” They asked.

                “It’s alright. I just got here.” Bill responded, a small smile on his face.

                “Phew. Good. We always have a rush on Sundays, so I have to get started on everything kind of early.”

                Bill looked around the very empty cafe and raised an eyebrow at the teenager.

                “After church hours, I mean. Right now it’s dead, but when the clock strikes twelve, it’ll be like a stampede. _And_ I’m the only one working today, so that’s great. Ugh, I’m rambling. What can I get you? Also, sorry if you came here looking for food, because unless you eat bread dough for breakfast, nothing is ready yet.”

                Bill looked up at the chalkboard menu that was suspended from the ceiling, then back down at the teenager. “What do you suggest?”

                “I- Well- Uh- I don’t really like coffee, so I’m probably not the one you should be asking.”

                “...You wo-”

                “I work in a cafe, I know. I’ve just never liked the bitterness of it. When I was little, though, there would always be a few drops left in my father’s mug and he’d let me drink it. I’d down it like a shot of whiskey. Not that I knew what that was like when I was a child! I just mean that that’s what it seemed like I was doing. Bottoms up, y’know.” They laughed nervously.

Bill chuckled. “Alright, come over here.” Bill motioned for the teenager to come over to his side. They did exactly that. Bill motioned toward the menu. “If you came in here and had never been here, what would _you_ order?”

                The teenager narrowed their eyes at the menu. “Well, a frappe, I guess. They don’t have very much ‘coffee’ in them, so...”

                “That’s what I want, then. Large.”

                “O-Oh, okay!” They hurried back around to the cash register and punched in a few numbers, then turned to Bill. “What flavor?”

                “Surprise me.” Bill smiled.

                The teenager’s eyes widened, then they punched more numbers in. “That will be…$2.15.” Once the transaction was complete, they got to work on the drink. After thirty seconds, give or take, the teenager handed Bill his drink. “There you go.”

                “Thank you.”

                The teenager nodded, then returned to frantically kneading the dough. “What’s your name?” They asked as they worked.

                Bill walked behind the counter and leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. “Bill Hearst.” He took a sip of his drink and hummed in approval.

                “Hearst? Like William Hearst?”

                “Correct.”

                “No offense, but don’t you guys have a maid or something that could make your coffee instead of a boring kid? That’s what I heard at school, anyway.”

                “I hate running that poor woman ragged. Besides, I don’t think you’re boring. I am _thoroughly_ interested.” The way he said that made the teenager freeze up and blush. “So, what’s your name?”

                “Darcy. Darcy Reid.”

                “Reid? As in Whitelaw Reid? Don’t you all own like...fifty museums?”

                “Fifty-five. And, that’s all him. He buys the necessities, but if I want something for me, then that’s where this job comes in.”

                Just then, another customer came in.

                “Christ.” Bill saw Darcy mouth.

                When Darcy left the kitchen to greet the customer, Bill quietly moved into the kitchen. He placed his drink down on an empty space on the counter and begun to wash his hands. Once his hands were clean, he moved over to the dough and started to knead it. A few minutes later, Darcy came back.

                “What are you doing?” They asked.

                “Helping.”

                “Did you wash your hands?”

                “Twice.”

                “Do you know what you’re doing?”

                “Can’t be that hard to figure out.”

                Bill looked up to see Darcy gaping at him.

                “I was joking, Darce. I used to watch my mother cook all the time when she was still alive. I know what I’m doing.”

                “O-Oh. I’m sorry.”

                “It’s alright. You live, you die. Circle of life. Can’t really stop it.”

                Darcy pursed their lips and didn’t respond. They walked over to another countertop and began mixing things into a bowl.

                “What are you making?” Bill asked without turning around.

                “Pie.”

                “What kind?”

                “'There’s A Cute Boy In My Kitchen And I’m Kind Of Hoping He’ll Stick Around Until I Get Off Of Work’ Pie.”

                Well, Bill didn’t expect _that_. Darcy had been the nervous and flustered one ever since they made eye contact, but Bill couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by the sudden rush of courage.

                “In that case, I suppose I’m over here making ‘You Can Count On It’ Bread.”

  


***

  


                Bill didn’t expect Darcy’s shift to end at seven o’clock at night, but he didn’t mind. He was waiting outside for Darcy to lock up when he got a text message.

 

_Uncle Joe:_

  


_I’m caught up at the school and your father isn’t available. Can you go pick up Katherine from her friend’s house?_

  


                Bill sent back a simple “yes.”

  


_Uncle Joe:_

  


_Sending you the address._

  


                The second the address popped up on his phone, Darcy exited the building and locked the door.

                “So, what are we-” They started.

                “I really hate to do this to you, Darce, but I have to go pick my cousin up from her friend’s house. Maybe another time?”

                “I could come with you. If you want me to, that is.” Darcy suggested.

                “But your father-”

                “-Is on a business trip and won’t be home for _several_ days.”

                “Well, in that case, I’d love the company.” Bill’s smile was nearly a smirk before he corrected it.

 

  
***

 

                Bill _liked_ musicals. He didn’t _love_ them, but he enjoyed them. Watching them, that is. He could never imagine himself being in a musical. At least until he noticed Darcy’s name written down on the sign-up sheet for their school’s production of _Cats_. He glanced down the hallway, whipped out his phone, then took a picture of the sheet. He walked away, but went back and signed his name.

                When he left school, he headed straight for the little cafe that Darcy worked at. He pulled the door open and stormed in.

                “Hi, welcome to- Bill! Hey! How are y-”

                “We go to the same school.”

                “We go to the same who now?”

                “The same school.” Bill pulled up the photo of the sign-up sheet and showed it to Darcy. “Why have I never seen you there before?”

                “Well, I do co-op. I’ve gotten most of the credits I need to graduate, so I take the remaining classes I need in the morning, go to lunch, then leave and come here to work.”

                “Huh. Guess we just don’t have the same classes in the morning.”

                “Yeah. There are some people I used to be close friends with two years ago that I don’t even see in the hallways anymore because our schedules are so different.”

                “How are you going to manage work and practice?”

                “Assuming I get in.” Darcy reminded.

                “You most likely will.”

                “You haven’t heard me sing. Or see me act. Or dance.”

                “So?”

                “...So? So, how are you sure I’ll get in?”

                Bill shrugged. “A hunch.”

                “'A hunch.’” Darcy snorted. “I could always show you. Dad’s still gone.”

                “If it’s okay, I think I’d rather be blown away at auditions.”

                “You’re auditioning?”

                “Well, I saw your name on the sign-up sheet and I just couldn’t resist. Besides, I’ve never been in a musical before. This’ll be a new experience. If I get in.” Bill smirked, then added: “However, I could still come over if you wanted me to.”

                Darcy smiled in response.

  


***  


 

                Bill walked into the auditorium, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t really sure if he’d get a role, but then he realized that there weren’t even enough people there to fill the principal parts. So, yeah, he’d get a part. He did show up a few minutes early, though, so maybe more people would show up. (Spoiler alert: no one else showed up.) Usually, his mind would tell him to find the person in charge, who, in this case, would’ve been Miss Medda Larkin. This time, however, his mind (and eyes) immediately drifted toward the familiar leotard-clad figure standing by themselves in the corner. He shrugged his backpack off, set it down in a seat, then stalked over to Darcy with his hands behind his back.

                “You look lost,” Bill commented.

                Darcy turned to him with wide eyes. “Huh? Me? Oh, uh, yeah. A bit. I’m just...nervous, I guess. I’ve always worked tech on these shows, so to have the possibility of getting a role in one is...new.”

                “Considering the current situation, we both might end up with multiple roles.”

                “Yeah, true. I also...feel a bit...out of place.” Darcy gestured to the leotard. “I wanted to make sure I had the ability to move around freely for the dance part of my audition, so I wore this, but now I’m thinking that I shouldn’t have because everyone else is wearing normal clothes and I’m feeling kind of ridic-”

                “Darcy, take a breath. You look...ready. You look prepared. More than anyone here. Hell, we’re all probably going to end up in those anyway, so you’re just one step ahead of the game.” Bill smiled to reassure them.

                Darcy smiled and nodded, then took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m ready. I’m prepared. I’m ready. I’m...I’m still nervous. Bill! What if I make a fool out of myself out there!? What if I get out there and they laugh at me? What if…”

                Meanwhile, a much younger student was nearby, stretching and preparing for her audition. She heard frantic and nervous whispers from around the corner and decided to see if everything was alright.

                “...I fall? What if I injure myself? God, Bill, I don’t know if I can-”

                “Hi!”

                Bill and Darcy turned around and looked down at the person who had spoken.

                “Are you okay? I was over there stretching and I overheard you saying that you were nervous.”

                “Yeah, I’m a bit nervous. Really nervous, actually. First audition, y’know.” Darcy chuckled...nervously.

                “Oh, mine, too. I probably would be nervous, but I live and _breathe_ this musical. And, oh my gosh, hold on.” She stepped back and began to peel off her sweatshirt and yoga pants, revealing a leotard identical to the one Darcy was wearing. “I didn’t really want to be the only one here in a leotard, so I wore it under normal clothes, but now that I’m not-” She cut herself off and threw her arms out to her sides. She sighed happily, then stuck her right hand out in front of her. “My name’s Benjamin, but there’s sometimes where I don’t like to be called that, like today, so you can call me Bee. Either that or my friends call me Buttons. Either one. Just not Benjamin. See, I only really tell people I trust this, but-”

                “Hold on, hold on. You just met us.” Bill cut her off.

                “I know, but I feel like I can trust you two. Anyways, there are some days where I feel like a boy and there are some days I feel like a girl. But, uh, like I said, only the people I trust know that, and I know I told you to never call me Benjamin, but call me Benjamin around people who don’t know. Or, you know what? Buttons sounds nice. Everyone knows who you’re talking about when you say Buttons. Just call me Buttons. Buttons Davenport.”

                “Well, in that case, I’m Darcy Reid. And, uh, I don’t feel like a boy or a girl...ever. I’m kind of neutral, I suppose.” Darcy reached out and shook Buttons’ hand.

                “That’s cool! I have some friends just like that, but I’m not going to say their names because that would be disrespecting their privacy and I don’t want to do that.”

                “That’s very nice and respectful of you, Buttons. I’m Bill Hearst.” He then shook Buttons’ hand.

                “Nice to meet you two! Are you guys aiming for any specific roles?”

                “Not...particularly, no. I don’t even really know what this musical is about if I’m being completely honest. Just thought it’d be a new experience.” Bill replied, followed by Darcy nodding in agreement.

                “Oh gosh! Okay, so it’s _Cats_. A musical about...cats. But it’s more than that! This ‘tribe’ of cats has a ritual every year that consists of their leader returning to pick one cat out of all of them to be reborn, and that’s what the musical focuses on. At first glance, it looks like there’s hardly a plot, but you really have to dig down into it. They introduce the audience to their world, they set up the celebration, their leader shows up, they entertain him, things go sideways, I start to cry, he picks the cat who is going to be reborn, and then I start crying again because it’s over. And, if you dig _even_ farther, you can even relate to some of the characters. Mr. Mistoffelees, for example. He’s the character I’m aiming for. If you really break down his character, you’ll see from his movements and the things he _doesn’t_ do that he isn’t very sure of himself and his abilities. And, although deep down he knows he can do great things, he doesn’t like to brag about it. And then Munkustrap, the poor guy, he just can’t catch a break! He plans this entire...skit, I guess you’d call it, to entertain their leader with and everything just goes wrong. And Demeter has a bad past with the villain, Macavity. A toxic relationship, even. Throughout the entire show, she is constantly on edge, just waiting for him to show up. When she sings her song about him with Bombalurina, you can watch her movements and see how scared she is and how he’s affected her. And Grizabella just wants to be loved and accepted back into the tribe. She abandoned them at a young age to pursue her dreams, but all she wants is for someone to touch her and accept her. And then there’s-”

                “Alright, everyone! We’re about to start!” Medda Larkin’s voice rang out throughout the auditorium.

                “Ooo, time to start! Break a leg, you two!” Buttons gave both of them thumbs-up, then ran off.

                “Seems to really be into this, doesn’t she?” Bill asked.

                “Big time.” Darcy smiled.

  


***  


 

                Bill had completely fallen in love with Darcy. He couldn’t deny it at that point. Hearing Darcy belt out thirty seconds of a song he was _definitely_ going to look up when he got home and watching them gracefully glide across the stage just made him swoon. He didn’t know if they felt the same, but he sure hoped so.

                The day after auditions, the cast was posted out on the main bulletin board in the school. Bill made his way over, almost immediately followed by Darcy.

                “Who did you get?” Darcy questioned.

                “Alonzo,” Bill replied.

                “I got Demeter.”

                “Are you alright with that? You know, playing a female role?”

                “Oh, yeah. Definitely. On stage, that isn’t me. That’s the character.”

                “That’s good. Do you think we’ll have any scenes together?”

                “All of the cats are almost always on stage, but during the Macavity fight scene, Macavity tries to steal Demeter away. Alonzo swoops in and saves her. Some fans consider them to be mates.” Buttons suddenly appeared in between them. She added in a very indiscreet wink at the end of her explanation, then walked away.

                “Hey, are you excited? You got the character you were going for.” Bill called out.

                Buttons whipped around and started walking backward. “Oh, I am. I’ve already cried three times today.” She turned back around and continued her leave.

                Bill turned back to Darcy and noticed that their face was the shade of a tomato.

                “Darcy? You okay?” Bill questioned.

                “Huh? Oh, yeah! Just...Just, uh...Look at the time! I have to blast. See ya!” Darcy took off.

                Bill smiled as he watched them go.

  


***

  


                “I don’t know if I can do this.” Darcy sighed.

                “What, you don’t trust me?” Bill chuckled.

                “No, I trust you. Believe me. It’s just...” Darcy glanced toward Racetrack Higgins and Specs Samuels.

                Thirteen-year-old Race dramatically gasped in fake offense. “You don’t trust me, Darce?”

                “Race, you gave yourself a black eye from falling down the stairs.”

                “Actually, he gave himself a black eye from holding his face above a two-liter of Diet Coke as he dropped an entire package of Mentos into it. He’s telling everyone he fell down the stairs so that he won’t get in trouble with his parents.” Specs corrected.

                “See! Even more reason not to trust you with slinging my body around the stage!”

                “That’s a _bit_ of an exaggeration. It’s more of a swing.”

                Darcy went to reply, but they were cut off by Medda announcing the start of rehearsal.

                “Racetrack Higgins, I am putting my life in your hands. If Specs drops me, it’s fine because he just has my feet. You have my upper half. I swear if you-”

                “I will try my hardest not to drop you, Darce.” Race smirked and patted them on the shoulder, then walked away to get in his place.

                “I want to make sure we get this scene down. It happens very quickly. In case anyone forgot, Macavity is going to grab Demeter by her forearms and drag her to center stage. Munkustrap is going to grab her by her ankles and they will simultaneously lift her. They will lightly swing her back and forth until Alonzo swoops in, picks her up, hold her above his head, and runs away with her. Everyone got it?” Medda explained.

                Various murmurs and exclamations of “yes, Miss Medda” rang out.

                “Good!” Medda signaled up to the person in the sound booth and the music suddenly started playing.

                It began with Race fighting off a few of the other characters, then pushing Specs out of the way. He grabbed Darcy by the forearms and hauled them across the stage in an instant. Darcy was honestly scared shitless, but they weren’t going to do anything that might’ve interfered with their safety. After a few moments of them being swung back and forth, they felt Bill come up, lift them into the air, and hurry away. When they were placed back down, their face was mere inches away from Bill’s.

                “You survived,” Bill smirked.

                “I did.” Darcy smiled.

                They stood there and stared at each other, their upturned lips slowly falling down. Bill hesitated, then softly placed his hand on Darcy’s right cheek and raised an eyebrow. Darcy nodded and they both leaned in and closed the gap between them simultaneously.

  


***

  


**_~(BACK IN THE “PRESENT”)~_ **

  


                “So, I’m moving.” Katherine casually said one day at lunch. The entire table froze, aside from Spot, who nearly choked on his chocolate milk.

                “Moving?” He coughed.

                “Like, moving? Or _moving_ moving?” Blink questioned.

                “...Moving.” Katherine replied confusedly. After a few seconds, the realization dawned on her. “Oh, I’m just moving houses. I’m not leaving.” Relief seeped into the air. “Just thought I’d update you guys since you all know about my...situation.”

                Katherine didn’t like to talk about her father. Ever since he disowned her, she liked to pretend that he didn’t exist or that she had no idea who he was. When he kicked her out, she had been staying with the Jacobs family, but she knew that they couldn’t really afford another mouth to feed, so she lied and said that she had someone to stay with when she was really renting a room at a nearby motel.

                “You guys remember Bill Hearst and Darcy Reid?” She asked.

                “Oh my _god_. Do I remember? There was so much sexual tension between those two during _Cats_ that I almost cheered when they started eating each other’s faces at one of the rehearsals.” Race forked half of his mashed potatoes into his mouth.

                “Ah, the high school sweethearts. ‘Eating each other’s faces’ is a bit of an exaggeration, but I agree. It was so obvious, too. The moment I met them I could tell.” Buttons added.

                “Poor Darcy. They were so nervous that day.” Specs sadly smiled.

                “I don’t blame them. I would be, too, if I had _you-know-who_ making sure my head didn’t hit the ground.” Tommy Boy scratched at his neck, then glanced around as if he didn’t say what he did.

                “Okay, but did I drop them?” Race sighed.

                “Actually, Tommy, you kind of did. Double cartwheel, among other stunts.” Buttons interrupted.

                “You’re right!”

                “Okay, but did I-”

                “Anyway! Katherine, do continue.” David ended the somewhat-argument before it progressed any further.

                “Well, they are now Mr. Bill Reid and Mx. Darcy Reid and they’ve offered to take me in. They live a bit farther north, but since I have my own vehicle, I can just drive myself here.”

                “That’s amazing, Kath. I’m so happy for you.” David smiled.

                “We all are,” Jack added.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured I'd add some extra tidbits and information bc why not?
> 
> -The thing Darcy mentions with the few drops of coffee left in their father's mug is based on personal experience, except it was my mother and my grandmother, not my father.  
> -I've been listening to Waitress a lot recently, and if you know the musical, you caught the reference in the first cafe scene.  
> -Pulitzer and Hearst are brothers in this story. We say "fuck history" in this fandom.  
> -A recurring theme in this story is Bill and Darcy smirking and smiling at each other. I didn't plan it, but once it started happening, I rolled with it.  
> -If you don't know what co-op is, it's when you take all of your remaining classes in the morning and then leave school to go to work in the afternoon.  
> -Every chance I get to include Cats, I'm taking it.  
> -Y'ALL I LOVE BUTTONS  
> -I've split myself into all of these characters, but I've put a lot of myself into Buttons. In the main story, Buttons mentions to Davey that she wasn't as out as she wanted to be until she joined the "revolution" and was put into the public view. I decided to delve further into that in this story by putting another aspect of myself into Buttons. I'm only out to my friends, but my family has no idea. When I meet new people that I know wouldn't tell my family, I introduce myself with my name and pronouns, but I also make sure that they know to refer to me with my deadname and my "forsaken" pronouns (as I call them) if they're ever around my family.  
> -Cats. That's all I gotta say.  
> -Bill is honestly the man who will show up on your doorstep with flowers and chocolate on any given day.  
> -Why isn't Race dead yet? The world may never know.  
> -Specs doesn't keep up with anyone's bullshit.  
> -Something I wanted to include but just couldn't put into words is Hearst disowning Bill. Hearst walks in on Bill and Darcy doing...things. He's proud at first that his son "finally" has a "girlfriend," but things go downhill quickly when he figures out that Bill is pansexual and Darcy is nonbinary. It happens close enough to their graduation that Bill is able to stay with Darcy for the remainder of the year, and then they get to go off and spend their lives together. When they get married, Bill decides to take Darcy's last name in order to distance himself from his father. As soon as they find out that Pulitzer has disowned Katherine, they immediately offer to take her in.  
> -To begin with, I was going to have Katherine call a club meeting with the newspaper club and have a whole shebang where they all had lunch with Bill and Darcy or where the couple showed up to the school to surprise them, but after failing to put either of those scenes into words, I realized why I failed. Katherine hates associating with her father and she hates anything that would draw attention to what he did to her. She wants to update her friends to make sure that they know she's safe, but she doesn't want to dwell on it. She loves hearing her friends reminisce about the musical, but she wants the association with her father to be over with, and Davey realizes that, so he directs the conversation back to her (and also to prevent an argument, but mostly so that Katherine can end it and move on).  
> -Bill and Darcy were kind of based on how my ex and I acted towards each other before we got together. We'd flirt back and forth, but that's how we all acted with each other, so neither of us truly knew how we felt about each other. It was damn obvious to all of our friends, though. When we told them we were together, the general reaction was "yeah, we know." (How my ex treated me during our relationship is shown through Davey in earlier stories.)  
> -Race just can't catch a break, can he?


End file.
